


Reflections

by windbloom



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst with a Happy Ending, Brief / implied suicidal ideation, Character Study, Developing Relationship, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, True Love, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 40,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22977904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windbloom/pseuds/windbloom
Summary: After successfully using Eden to rebalance the aether in the Empty, Ryne and Gaia try their best to enjoy a brief respite, yet both struggle silently in their own ways. As unexpected and hidden feelings grow stronger and threaten to alter their hard-earned friendship, neither the Oracle of Light nor the Oracle of Darkness know how best to move forward.
Relationships: Gaia/Ryne | Minfilia
Comments: 63
Kudos: 153





	1. Clear as Diamond, Fragile as Ice

**Author's Note:**

> \- Both characters have been aged-up slightly. Ryne is 18, Gaia is 20.  
> \- Writing began after the release of patch 5.2.

In a world of ice and crystal and light, Gaia opened her eyes. As she pushed herself upright, the frozen patterns beneath her fingers burned in bright cerulean hues. She sucked in a sharp breath of biting cold air and tried to regain her bearings. She was back in Shiva’s domain, but the Heritor of Frost was nowhere to be found. 

Gaia sat tense upon the icy platform, surrounded by a forest of crystal. Shards of gold light from beyond arced into the crystalline facets; bright enough that she had to lift a hand to shield her eyes. All was as silent and still as a snow globe that had gone undisturbed for ages.

She was alone. That wasn’t something new, especially for her. But this particular flavor of loneliness _felt_ different. Bereft of the vast emptiness of the void, this was something more refined. Instead of nothing, a _negation_. And yet, there was warmth. An unfamiliar, brilliant warmth unlike anything she had ever felt before.

_Hear me, Gaia._

The voice struck her like a blow, shattering any sense of regained composure. Gaia couldn’t place a finger on the sound. It wasn’t like the faerie’s, so deep inside her head that she could barely stand the closeness. No, this other voice seemed to come from everywhere all at once. 

Still, there was a familiarity there. The voice felt dear to her.

“Ryne?” Gaia’s own call came out at such a weaker tone and timbre, and instead of filling the space with powerful surety, it faded into an echoing drone. Ryne’s name echoed again and again and again, caught between crystal, like a reflection trapped between two mirrors.

In response to her call, there came only laughter. Soft and mirthful, and growing louder, as the echo of Gaia’s voice reverberated off the glowing crystals and split the silence in two.

_You, more than anyone, should know by now that a name means nothing._

Gaia’s breath caught in her throat. She shoved herself to her feet, balling up her fists, fingernails cutting into her palms. Then, her hand snapped open, and from somewhere _else_ she could feel the hammer coming. 

“Okay, that’s enough. Either you come out and fight me, or I start smashing up every crystal I can find.” The hammer materialized in her palm, and she fastened her shaking fingers around the cool, black metal. Power, albeit not entirely her own, rippled through her body. She narrowed her eyes.

“I’m not here to play games.”

 _Oh? Then what_ are _you here for?_

Gaia felt a rush of anger, but a response never came. She faltered, and the grip on the hammer loosened. What _was_ she here for? And not just here, but why was she anywhere? Why did she exist at all? 

“I’m...”

_Me. You’re here for me._

And that’s when Gaia looked up.

The figure floated above her. A white hood covered all but her glistening lips, which were slightly upturned in a simpering smile. Her hair, long and pale and shining in the light, fell across her shoulders in waves. Pure white robes clung to her delicate shoulders. 

It was Ryne.

As she drifted ever closer, Gaia could almost _feel_ the stillness of the air, contracting each and every particle around them. Suddenly, she felt her own body acquiesce; her arms going heavy at her sides, as if restrained by some invisible force.

Despite everything, Gaia could do naught but stare. It was in that moment that Gaia realized she had never seen anything more powerful, or more beautiful. She could feel the heat in her chest moving up to her neck. Her mouth went dry. Her heart was racing. All she could do was remember to breathe. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice, and not the faerie’s this time but her very own, screamed at her to wake up. Or to run. Or to just _do something._

Ryne lifted her hand. The subtle sound of the fabric of her robe moving across her skin was like a melody. It seemed like forever, for her to lift her hand, and as her fingertips drew closer, Gaia felt herself frozen in time. 

“Ryne…” Gaia breathed the name, her voice hitched and cracked in her throat.

Ryne’s fingers grazed Gaia’s cheek. They were soft and cool to the touch. Her palm came to rest upon Gaia’s cheek, and with the subtlest of movements, she tilted Gaia’s head up towards her own.

_That hammer. It matches your dress._

The hammer slipped from Gaia’s fingers and fell to the ground with a crushingly loud metal clang, but Gaia didn’t hear it. She couldn’t hear anything. Her world was ablaze with the sound of white static.

The hood that had been covering Ryne’s eyes slid back, falling to rest behind her. Gaia stared up at her. Time seemed to stop. Ryne’s eyes were striking. Twin diamonds of brilliant azure. A vision surfaced. Gaia could see them. The two of them, alone together on the grassy hills of Norvrandt, hand in hand, looking up at an achingly blue sky. The sky, unobscured by Eden, had never been more beautiful. The vision faded, and she looked back up at Ryne. The warmth and the light radiating from her visage was almost too painful to bear.

_Let’s see how strong you really are._

* * *

Gaia woke with a start. Her eyes snapped open, and it took everything in her power not to cry out. She made sure to lay perfectly still in the creaky, old bed. She stared up at the familiar and surprisingly welcome ceiling of their lodgings in Mord Souq. 

_It was just a dream._

A voice that Gaia recognized as her own said those words, over and over, as she willed her still pounding heart to stay quiet.

Ryne was sleeping, only a few yalms away, in a creaky bed of her own. Ryne, who was shorter than her. Ryne, who didn’t own a hooded robe, or wear her hair cascading down the front of her shoulders. Ryne, who had blue eyes that _didn’t_ glow.

Ryne, who had never put her hand to Gaia’s cheek and sent chills racing up her spine.

Ryne, who had never looked at her _that way_ , or spoken words so thick with desire. 

It was just Ryne. Her companion. 

Her friend.


	2. Willful Disregard

“Yeah, so... there's still a dust storm.”

Ryne pushed the door to their small shelter in Mord Souq closed, muffling the raging gusts of wind and sand beyond. She turned, smiling in that charmingly apologetic way that Gaia had grown so familiar with.

Gaia made a show of rolling her eyes. “Really? I thought it would have stopped since the last time you checked all of five minutes ago.”

Ryne smiled wider and shrugged. “Sorry, I just really want to get going!”

“You’re _way_ too excited for these biscuits,” Gaia replied coolly. With her arms and legs crossed, sitting in the chair the furthest from the door, she made her best disinterested expression.

“ _Coffee_ biscuits, thank you very much,” Ryne admonished playfully. Gaia’s feigned indifference, while working remarkably well to dissuade someone like Thancred, seemed to have the opposite effect on Ryne. Her smile widened into a full-blown grin, and before Gaia forced herself to look away she noted that Ryne looked so full of life; as if she were practically glowing. It nearly put goosebumps on Gaia’s pale skin. 

“And yes, I _am_ excited. Everyone is still talking about them!” Ryne opened her arms up to gesture at the “everyone”, despite the two of them being quite alone in the dimly lit room. 

_Yeah, well, I’m not everyone._ Gaia’s own inner voice, harsh in it’s surety, seeped into the cracks of her own thoughts. She shook her head to clear her mind and sat back further in her chair. 

The dust storm’s sudden arrival had been most unfortunate. After the night she’d had and that terribly vivid dream, some time alone would have been favorable. Instead, fate had dealt her the opposite. How long would she be trapped here, pretending everything was fine? She looked down and willed the images of the Ryne from the dream, the ones that had seared themselves into her memory, from taking her full attention. 

It didn’t make any sense for this to be happening _now_. Not after she had fallen into a familiar routine; not after they had finally acclimated and become accustomed to spending so much time with one another. These quiet, lazy days with Ryne had been such a blessing. Gaia was finally starting to feel like a person again. She was finally starting to feel like… herself.

There was a pause; Gaia could almost feel Ryne’s held breath as she waited in polite silence for a response. The howl of the wind outside was a mocking lament against the rickety door. 

_You can’t even hold a conversation._ A cruel whisper infiltrated her reverie. Was it the faerie’s, or her own?

“Besides,” Ryne continued, her spirited voice filling the space, “the Crystarium is amazing. There’s a lot more than just biscuits.”

Without waiting for a response, Ryne launched into a tangent about all the things, other than biscuits, that the Crystarium had to offer. Gaia listened to her, but her mind still wandered elsewhere. With Ryne’s light, cheery voice as a backdrop, Gaia’s thoughts drifted back to the dream. 

It was strange, because all the memories that had come back to her since she had come to, all those weeks ago, had also felt more dream than real. Dreamlike memories that didn’t seem to belong to her. Each fleeting moment as shadowy as a specter, and seen through another’s eyes. But the dream last night had been _different_. She had felt... something. All of her other “memories” had been entirely bereft of emotion, up till now. What did any of it mean?

_After all this, I’m still no closer to finding any answers._

“-all _kinds_ of people there, you’ll love it.” 

Ryne had come closer, standing at the table with her hands resting upon the dusty, lacquered wood. Gaia looked up and noticed that Ryne was smiling down at her. Gaia couldn’t help but recall that very same smile from the dream. Startled, she pushed herself out of her chair.

“How can you be so sure?” Gaia countered, her voice rising and tinged with misdirected anger as one hand came up reflexively to clutch at her elbow. 

Ryne’s deep blue eyes darted down to where Gaia’s fingers clutched at her elbow, and then back up. Her smile faded somewhat, but it wasn’t a frown that replaced it. The look she gave her was something more knowing, almost thoughtful, and certainly kind. Her expression softened. 

“Because I _know_ you,” Ryne began, spreading her arms, “I mean, we’ve hardly been apart for weeks.”

Gaia made a withdrawn _hmm_ sound and turned away. She could feel the warmth in her chest, rising up to her neck and falling down into her stomach. Miraculously, Ryne always seemed to know the right thing to say. 

Gaia lifted her gaze, shifting to scan across the entirety of their humble accommodations. One big open space, with a table at the center. At one end of the room, their beds had been lined up side by side, with some space between. The beds had originally been at either side of the room, but upon arrival Ryne had excitedly decided to redecorate. Opposite the beds was Ryne’s desk. Ryne had asked Gaia if she wanted a desk of her own and Gaia had laughed off the suggestion. What work was there for _her_ to do? 

Ryne’s desk was neat, but not spotless. A stack of parchment was laid out in one corner, and there was a half-empty cup of pixieberry tea sitting atop it. In the middle of the desk was Ryne’s journal; an account of everything that had happened with Eden that she alone was responsible for cataloging. 

Gaia remembered all the nights she had fallen asleep to the sound of Ryne’s pen scratching against the parchment. 

Stacks of books of all different colors and sizes lay on the floor before the desk, and even at the side of Ryne’s bed. Ryne had been going through them with the determination and intensity of a wildfire. So many books, and Gaia hadn’t ever even thought to glance at the spine of one. 

There was so much of this world that she didn’t know. 

“Gaia…”

Ryne’s voice, suffused with hesitant concern, rose to meet her. The sound of it pulled Gaia out of her own internal storm. She turned, letting go of her elbow and raising the same hand to rest at her hip.

“...Is there a library in this Crystarium of yours?”

Ryne seemed taken aback at first, and then she nodded profusely; her expression alight with growing excitement.

“Yes! An amazing library! It’s called The Cabinet of Curiosity. There are walls upon walls of books and scrolls and manuscripts, and--”

“You’re already worked up about those coffee biscuits. You _really_ don’t need to get unhinged about a library, too.”

Ryne laughed awkwardly and looked down as her ears went pink. 

“It’s not really about going to those places…” Ryne trailed off. Gaia stood still. She realized that she had been holding her breath.

_It’s that I’m going there with you._

The unspoken words hung in the distance between them. 

“So, what are we waiting for?” Gaia asked resolutely. 

“What..?” Ryne’s blue eyes went wide with awe as she watched Gaia move around the room in preparation.

“You want to go. I want to go. Why aren’t we going _now_?” Gaia replied in a boldness that surprised even her.

Ryne looked back behind her and raised her eyebrows. The wind behind the door hadn’t died down.

“What about the dust storm?”

“What about it? Don’t you remember riding in that horrible Skyslipper monstrosity? I got more sand in my mouth than outside of it. And what’s a little sand, anyway?”

Gaia bent down to pull her lightweight carryall over her shoulder. Ryne watched her, mouth agape. Gaia could feel a rush of curiosity run through her. Ryne was hardly ever at a loss for words.

“But... what about your luggage?”

“I hardly have the room for all that, if I’m to buy a whole new wardrobe at the Musica Universalis.” 

Gaia shrugged nonchalantly. She had never really needed the luggage in the first place, truth be told. It was just another way to try to get Thancred and the rest to write her off, way back when. How glad she was, that Ryne had seen through it all.

“And we’ve got these,” From the small dresser by her bed, Gaia pulled out two pairs of goggles and face masks. She tossed a set to Ryne. “Quite fashionable. I’m sure they won’t chafe at all.”

Ryne caught the goggles and mask in two hands, and suddenly she smiled. But it wasn’t the smile of excitement. It was something more. Something deeper. Gaia felt something like a twist in her stomach at the sight of it.

“Okay. I’m convinced,” Ryne laughed lightly and turned to grab her journal and few more key items for her own traveler's pack, “A little sand never hurt anyone.”

The weather outside was abysmal. The entire sky was blasted in dirty umber splotches. Swirls of sand swept harshly through the air. It could not have been worse travel weather. Gaia stepped outside and almost began to regret the way she had sought to impress Ryne with her own headstrong indifference for the harsh climate that they would be spending their time in.

But it didn’t matter. She couldn’t stop now. Ryne led them outside the city walls, and Gaia walked a few steps behind her. As they trekked into the storm, Gaia willed herself not to think anymore upon the dream, or for what reason it had come to her. Ryne, _her_ Ryne, was right there in front of her. 

All she had to do now was follow. 


	3. Flood

It had been so easy to act, back then. Back at the Great Glacier, where Gaia had almost lost her. Back when the crystal had trapped Ryne within and the light had threatened to overtake her completely. Gaia still didn’t fully understand how it had all gone wrong, but it didn’t matter. She had known exactly what needed to be done. She didn’t have to think twice. For one of the few times in her life, she had known how to act without an inner voice to direct her or question her motivations. There was no doubt, or apprehension, or uncertainty.

There was only Ryne. 

So why was it so hard to act, _now?_

* * *

Gaia had hoped that the storm might have died down, as if by some miracle the forces that be would see the two of them, trudging through the sand, and take pity on them. But by the time they had crossed the downward sloping hills of the Fields of Amber and reached the small outpost known as The Red Sarai, a reprieve from the vicious storm of wind and sand had yet to be seen. 

There had been a moment, on the precariously built bridge that spanned across The River of Sand, where Ryne had stopped, and turned, and reached her delicate hand out towards her. Gaia reached back, and though the sand whipped harshly against her uncovered skin, she felt nothing but warmth and softness as their fingers touched, and then, hand in hand, they crossed the remainder of the bridge together. By the time they had reached the other side, it took everything for Gaia to gently pull her hand away and stare at anything but Ryne as her heart fluttered and threatened to escape from her chest, like a wild bird trapped within a cage.

Gaia only hoped that they would reach the Crystarium soon. Perhaps there, she would find something to busy herself with; a distraction from all these onerous thoughts and feelings.

But when had things ever been so easy?

* * *

“So... apparently Amaro refuse to fly during sandstorms…?” Again, Ryne’s cheerful voice, muffled from beneath her mask, accompanied her apologetic eyes. “I guess it makes sense, since they’re sentient and all.”

They stood beneath the coverings of a makeshift tent on the outskirts of the massive fortress of Qasr Sharl. Boxes and jars of supplies headed for Mord Souq helped to block the harshness of the storm. Gaia pulled off her mask in exasperation.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I wish I were, but… well, they said we could wait here until the storm dies down.”

“Ugh. That could be hours, or _days_ , for all we know.”

Gaia crossed her arms over her chest and looked down. Perhaps they wouldn’t be going after all. Why had she felt so strongly about needing this. It felt like her life depended on it, but she couldn’t understand why.

“I mean, there _is_ another way,” Ryne replied as she slowly pulled her mask down and looked off into the distance thoughtfully. Her tone made Gaia think that this other way was likely no more enticing than the first.

“Does it, by any chance, involve the Skyslipper?” Gaia asked tonelessly, already knowing full well what the answer would be.

Ryne’s smile stretched wide and she started to respond, but Gaia cut her off at the pass.

“And I’m sure you’ve asked Thancred for permission to operate it, yes?”

Ryne’s brows furrowed and she started to talk again, raising a finger up as her mouth opened.

“Actually, don’t answer that.”

And so they went, circling back the way they’d come, and then going further south. The journey was a familiar one, and Gaia felt spikes of nostalgia rush through her as they crossed the desert once again.

 _This isn’t like you, to go headlong into such an ill-conceived plan._ Gaia’s thoughts chided her, and she couldn’t have agreed more. It _wasn’t_ like her. The _old_ her. But she wasn’t that person anymore now, was she? As Ryne climbed into the Skyslipper and turned to reach down and help her up, Gaia couldn't help but notice the confident strength in Ryne’s grasp, or the way the muscles in her arm flexed as she pulled her up. 

After a lot of initial checking and re-checking, and inspecting various levers and knobs and buttons, and going over the startup tasks she had studied Thancred performing numerous times before, Ryne seemed a ready pilot. She pulled her mask up, and turned to give Gaia a thumbs up.

Gaia shook her head and held in a sigh as she rested her chin in her hand. She looked out the side of the compartment. It was still too dust-ridden to see beyond a few score yalms. Not that it really mattered. The desert had never been much to look at, in any case.

“...It’s weird for you to be sitting all the way back there.” 

“I’ve always sat here,” Gaia responded blankly as she looked around. The left corner of the backseat had been her spot from the beginning. She had chosen it, originally, to stay as far away from everyone else as possible. It hadn’t worked.

“Yeah, but it’s just the two of us now. You can come up front... if you want to. Besides, Thancred’s not here to tell us otherwise,” Ryne said with a grin, ears turning pink as she fiddled with a lever. 

Gaia tilted her head. “That doesn’t strike you as… dangerous?”

Ryne looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Riding in an over sized trolley pushed by a giant Talos is probably going to be the dangerous part, actually.”

And before Gaia could say another word, of which she had many words to say, Ryne disengaged the safety brake and pressed down on the ignition pedal with one booted foot. She pulled back on the handlebars and they rose skyward. Amazingly, Gaia didn’t feel afraid at all.

* * *

The dust storm died down not long after they were up in the air, as if it had been pushing them towards this path all along. They didn’t spend much time in the Skyslipper after crossing the Nabaath Severance to touch down not too far away from where they had lifted off, landing on the broken ground of the ruins of Nabaath Arang.

The thick clouds of dust being mostly dispersed allowed the sun that hung high above to bear down with a sweltering brightness. Gaia hadn’t realized how dark it had been before, with the storm blotting out the sky. By the time she stepped onto solid ground, the sand was already practically hissing and she had to raise a hand to shield her eyes as she looked around.

Gaia had only ever seen the ruins from afar, and the sight of them up close nearly took her breath away. The structures, deep red brick-lined pillars and archways with beautifully geometric designs, were half submerged within the sand and stood at strange angles. Gaia found it startlingly alluring, the way the sinking towers seemed to be suspended in time. 

A stillness hung in the air, silent and waiting. The heat sharpened and rose, making the blazing light refract, and as it bent, water-like mirages shimmered falsely through the lifeless air.

“This is where she stopped the flood,” Ryne’s voice met the silence head on, but her tone had gone reverent and solemn, and as she took a few tentative steps through the gateway towards the ravaged inner courtyard of what appeared to have once been a grand palace, it looked more to Gaia like the movements were not entirely her own, as if some unseen force were drawing her in. 

“I’ve heard the stories, but I never thought I’d see this with my own eyes” Gaia responded hastily as she followed, unsure how to react as Ryne stopped in the center of the courtyard and looked up. 

The remnants of the quelled flood hung high above them. Immense, golden crystals, jagged and sharp as rough-hewn amber, blanketed the sky above like waves of light halted mid-crash. Gaia suddenly felt very small. 

“I’ve been here before,” Ryne’s voice caught in her throat. Gaia waited for more, but Ryne did not speak again. 

Gaia took one hesitant step closer. Ryne was still looking upwards. From behind, with her auburn hair falling behind her, and the way the light grazed the bare skin of her shoulders, she looked almost immaterial. Gaia’s heart skipped a beat. It was just like in the dream. But this _wasn’t_ a dream. Everything Gaia felt as she watched her was _real_.

“Ryne…”

Ryne turned to look at her. Her eyes were red around the edges, and brilliantly blue, like jewels shining deep beneath the sea. Gaia swallowed hard.

“There’s a lot about me that you don’t know,” Ryne said simply as she tore her gaze away.

Gaia’s heart jumped into her throat. She wanted to say something strong and reassuring, but the air had left her lungs, as if she had been punched in the gut. She struggled hopelessly for the right words, but she didn’t give up. There was something in Ryne’s expression that drove Gaia forward. She took a step closer, and then another, until the distance between them had been closed. She raised her hand to rest on Ryne’s shoulder, offering what she felt would seem like the barest shred of comfort.

How easy it should have been, then, to take both of her hands, or press her forehead gently against Ryne’s own. How much more easily to reach out to her, and slide her fingers through a strand of Ryne’s hair, or put her arms around her in an encouraging embrace. 

Those gestures had once seemed so simple, but in the deepest places of her heart she saw them for what they had become. Tangled with desire; complicated with need. She _wanted_ to hold Ryne, with a yearning that had flooded the very essence of her. It seemed almost too powerful to endure. 

“Do you… want to talk?” The words came out strange, and Gaia felt silly even as she said them. 

“I…” Ryne’s eyes widened for a moment, and then she attempted a smile, “No, I’m fine. Sorry, being here got to my head,” Ryne’s voice had changed, becoming light even as she reached up to take Gaia’s hand and give it a small squeeze, “We should go.” 

And then, Ryne turned abruptly away from that final bastion, where the Word of the Mother had sacrificed herself to send Eden, the original Sin Eater, into a deep sleep, all those years ago. She turned away from the spot where her determined request to take her own path, and become her own person, and save the First and all the people on it on her own terms had been granted. She turned, and walked away.

And what choice did Gaia have then, but to follow?


	4. On the Rocks

My name is... Gaia.

At least, that’s what _you_ said it was.

You, who have been with me for as long as I can remember, and probably even longer still, than what my memories will afford me.

You, who have deigned to grant me _but a fraction_ of your power, to an end and a future that you continue to withhold.

You, who have not spoken to me, since before the final element was restored. 

What are you waiting for? I know you’re not gone completely. That would have been too easy.

But there has to be a reason. For you, for me, and for _everything_. I thought I could find that out on my own, but what I looked for and what I found were so very different. Now, _she’s_ expanding into the empty spaces you’ve left behind. Now, it’s _her_ voice that I’m hearing, where once it had been yours.

And I think to myself, you may have already lost the battle before it ever had a chance to truly begin.

But don’t fret; you’re not the only one.

* * *

The pair continued to travel north. After a short time, they reached the over sized trolley tracks, and then the trolley cart itself. Gaia spent a great deal of effort blocking out the trolley ride. With Ryne at the front, all Gaia wanted to do was crouch behind and hold on for dear life. Realizing this would not have been her most heroic moment, and trying still to impress Ryne for whatever foolish reason, she opted to stand beside her. And glad she was for doing so, for had she stayed behind her she would have missed seeing Ryne’s glittering smile. Still, the ride was not an easy one and she much preferred Ryne as a pilot, though she imagined she would prefer almost anyone over a giant stone golem.

Since then, Ryne hadn’t been any less enthusiastic. If anything, she seemed more animated than ever before. Gaia had been following behind her as they continued to walk, albeit heavily distracted with replaying what she had seen and heard at Nabaath Arang over and over again in her head. It was much more compelling even than the dream. More vivid and enduring, more immediate, and so very real. Gaia was reminded of mirrors and of echoes, and the way a single thing can become a great many things, and how, as each small moment, gesture, or glance adds up there has to come a point where suddenly, the weight of all of those things becomes too much to bear. 

_There’s a lot about me that you don’t know._

Ryne’s words continued to tear through Gaia’s heart. The sadness in her voice, hidden just beyond the surface, reverberated within Gaia’s core like a quake. The thought of Ryne’s desperation, of her being in need of solace and receiving none, was a destructive force running rampant through Gaia’s idle thoughts. Why couldn’t she just _be there_ for her, like Ryne had been, for her?

As Gaia’s pace slowed, Ryne turned. They had been walking for some time, but Ryne looked none the worse for wear. Gaia was breathing heavily, but Ryne looked hardly as if she had worked up a sweat.

“Want to take a break?”

“I’m fine,” Gaia answered quickly, “And we’ll never get to the Crystarium at this pace, with you checking up on me every fifteen minutes,” Gaia tried to intensify the teasing tone of her voice. She knew how much Ryne enjoyed their lighthearted quarreling, and at this point she had resolved to do whatever it took to convince Ryne that everything was okay.

“Maybe, but I’m pretty sure you like the attention,” Ryne offered as a small smile drew itself onto her lips. Though, from the speculative tone of her voice, it seemed as much an inquiry as a comment. In any case, it was such an accurate statement that Gaia didn’t even have a witty, biting response to come back with. She was, quite literally, stunned.

From everything Gaia had gathered about Thancred, she felt safe in saying that Ryne was most certainly Thancred’s protégé. Persuasive, persistent, and terribly blunt when she wanted to be. Gaia became painfully aware of just how ill-equipped and unprepared she was against Ryne’s natural charm. She gulped and turned away to hide the growing blush on her cheeks.

_She’s staring at you. Say something._

“Where are we, anyway?” Gaia remarked, attempting to steer the conversation away as she shrugged her shoulders to relieve the soreness, and raised a hand to brush back the dark curls that had fallen across her chest. She didn’t realize how elegant she looked, dressed all in black, in the middle of the desert; an obsidian treasure nestled within the sand.

“The Central Hills of Amber,” Ryne replied after a moment, looking west as she narrowed her eyes. “Twine would be that way.” She pointed in the direction she was looking, then her arm rotated so that she was pointing north. “We’re heading that way.”

“How much longer?” Gaia felt childish to even ask, but she had to know. How much longer until she would be granted a reprieve, not from Ryne but from these distorted, never-ending _thoughts_ of her, and the doubts about _herself_. Oh, how the questions kept piling up. Surely, the Crystarium would hold at least one answer. With truth, there would be freedom. There _had to be_.

“To get to Lakeland, not very. A few hours, maybe? But then we’ll probably need to find somewhere to sleep because it’s going to be a little while longer before we get to the Crystarium. I was actually thinking about buying some camping supplies at the next outpost.”

“Well, I’m not _unused_ to camping,” Gaia raised one hand up into a halfhearted shrug.

Ryne paused. Gaia sensed her hesitation and her curiosity piqued. She found herself hanging onto the growing silence, awaiting Ryne’s next word with a vigilant concentration.

“You didn’t seem to care much for the tent, back in The Empty…” Ryne’s voice was quiet, almost shy in a way that Gaia couldn’t quite pick up on, and as she said the words Ryne folded her hands behind her back and turned her head away.

“Well, it’s not like it’s going to kill me...” Gaia began, trailing off as the memory of camping out in The Empty popped into her mind. There were two tents, and in the beginning she had demanded one entirely for herself. Thancred hadn’t looked pleased at that, but Ryne had convinced him to begrudgingly oblige. Those first few nights had been so lonely, with the saturated yellow light from the enormous crystal shard shining in from beyond the makeshift tent’s fabric. She had lain awake most of the night, urging her destiny to present itself. Forcing fate to arrive. Demanding that her future appear before her, as if it were simply a matter of will.

It had been Ryne who had asked to share the tent with her, some days after. 

_“Thancred snores and then Urianger grumbles about Thancred’s snoring and it’s just... a lot? I’m really quiet, and, and... my bedroll is small! You won’t even notice me, promise.”_

Ryne had been so nervously optimistic that Gaia couldn’t find it in herself to object. But Gaia hadn’t realized then, that it would be impossible to _not_ notice her. In fact, noticing Ryne had been at the top of the list of things she had been doing all those quiet nights, alone together in that two-person tent, out in the middle of nowhere, beneath the moonlit shadow of the giant crystal shard, and Eden, hovering with a passive gravity, far off in the distance.

Gaia had noticed the way Ryne’s breathing slowed and lengthened as she fell to asleep, or the way she turned to her side and her long, coppery hair fell across her back. The rise and fall of her chest. The peacefulness, of her expression, as she slept a dreamless sleep. Gaia had noticed _everything_.

And quite suddenly, like a single sparking bolt of levin shooting down from the sky to catch dried branches aflame, Gaia realized something she had been keeping, even from herself.

_All this time. I’ve..._

Gaia turned sharply, and her hand shot up to her elbow. She suddenly felt the need to be anywhere else. She wanted to run, or hide, or just get away. In the back of her mind, she realized the absurdity of this desire, but it was such a strong reaction that it overpowered her ability to conceal it.

“I need to be alone for a moment,” Gaia snapped, immediately regretting it.

Ryne’s smile faded, to be replaced with a look of hesitant concern. Gaia noticed her pensively drawing one closed hand up to her chest.

“Did I... say something wrong?” 

Gaia flinched at her innocent question, barely managing to disguise it as a shrug just in time. 

“N-no, it’s nothing like that,” Gaia managed, and she looked back at Ryne, almost pleadingly. “I just need some time to myself.”

Ryne seemed to understand. She nodded once. “Okay, but I won’t be far… if you need me.”

* * *

Gaia had hurriedly chosen a direction and walked. She was still walking, when her mind finally stopped blanking and she could see and hear and feel again. The distance had helped. She was quite alone, blocked on almost all sides by high rising sand dunes or rock formations, all looking bleached and harsh in the light. She took a deep breath in.

_The dream wasn’t a premonition. It was an echo._

She exhaled a shaking breath and crossed her arms over her chest, clutching at her elbows until her knuckles had gone almost white. 

“It’s fine,” she started, and couldn’t help but glance back in the direction from which she had come, “It’s not like she knows.” 

_Yet._

Gaia’s eyes fluttered closed. But before she had a chance to fully process that thought, she heard the sounds of rushing sand and jostling rocks tumbling against one another. Her eyes snapped open as the shadow of a jagged hand fell before her. She turned, and her eyes went wide. Three craggy, boulder-built faces, staring down at her with dark, empty sockets where eyes should have been. The stone men slid through the sand towards her, raising their enormous fists and outstretched fingers in a cacophony of grinding and grating.

She knew in the back of her mind that she should have called out to Ryne. Surely in the motionless air, Gaia’s voice would have traveled and found her. Gaia could almost see it. Ryne, vaulting over a dune and spinning in the air. The sunlight glinting off her unsheathed daggers with an elegant violence. She would land before Gaia, with her back to her, crouched in her battle stance. The taut muscles in her legs would tighten, and in the next moment she would be upon them, and with sharp, clever, piercing blows she would reduce the towering, rocky aggressors to mere gravel.

That’s how it would happen. That’s how it would always happen. It was, after all, Ryne’s story. Ryne’s _purpose_. Ryne alone had taken up the mantle. It was by her hand that Eden obeyed. It was by her will that life had, however slowly, but _surely_ , returned to The Empty. 

And after all of that, what had Gaia done? What was she, other than yet another thing that Ryne had the obligation to save?

She opened her mouth, and her lips began to form the name, but Gaia stopped, and even as the three debitages crept forward, she raised her hand and the deep, willing power of the void flowed through her fingertips.

“I can do this,” she whispered, as the power within her drew itself out, and the dark crimson energy swirled and coiled around her outstretched palm, glowing in otherworldly ferocity as the energy fell in on itself and a dense, rippling orb formed. She narrowed her eyes, flinging her hand outwards towards the invaders, and each of the three of them were encased for a moment in a red-tinged geometric pattern. 

Then, the magic faded, and everything was as it had been only moments before, save for the subtle sound of a clock hand, counting the progression of time with every tick. The stone faces came ever closer, and as they raised their fists, it looked for a second as if the oncoming blows would find her. 

Except that they didn’t. 

The explosions were threefold, and instead of gravel her enemies were ground into a fine dust, dissipating in the resulting swirl of aetheric energy. 

Gaia let out a sigh. How easy it was, to let the faerie’s power flow through her. Her showdown had been nothing but decisive. So then, why did she feel so empty? She turned away sharply and looked back the way she had came. As much as she hated to admit it, it was time to go back. Surely, Ryne would be waiting for her.

But as she raised her eyes, she saw Ryne standing quite still atop the dunes. She looked as if she had just run to the top, and now, breathless, she had stopped abruptly and stood there, watching her. In the distance, Gaia couldn’t make out her expression, but she knew in her heart that Ryne had seen her, battling it out alone.

Gaia looked up, and she tried to smile in a comforting way, but part of her felt combative still. 

_I don’t really_ need _you_ , she wanted to say, as she drew the dark, billowing fabric of her dress sleeves around herself, crossing her arms in what she thought was defiance but what translated into something more wounded as her honest feelings found a way through her defenses.

_Except that I do._


	5. Incandescence

The remainder of the journey to Lakeland was mostly uneventful, and decidedly more somber. Ryne had kept quiet and mostly to herself, and Gaia hadn’t the heart to strike up any kind of conversation that would have lasted more than a few words exchanged between them. 

_She’s probably mad at me, for going off on my own._

Gaia’s ceaseless inner monologue had continued to provide her with jeering banter throughout the trip, but at least it passed the time. As the sun began a slow descent, they took a brief stop at the Mordish outpost of Garik, and with Mord being so agreeable to trade, it wasn’t long before Ryne returned with the camping supplies she had sought. 

By the time they reached the mountain tunnel that led to Lakeland, the setting sun had turned the vast desert at their backs a startlingly deep shade of orange. As they cleared the tunnel, they stopped on the precipice of The Forest of the Lost Shepard to simply stare in awe. Ryne had said then that it was like walking into another world, and Gaia agreed. The gentle colors of lavender, lilac and indigo were refreshingly welcome. Gaia let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. There, off in the distance, was the towering crystal spire, soaring skyward and nearly splitting the sky in two, that marked their journey’s end.

Ryne had said that it would soon be dark, and so after a short time heading along the wide and well-kept Lakeland thoroughfare did they turn off the beaten path to head deeper into the dense forest. The ground was on an incline, and Gaia could feel the muscles in her calves aching for rest as they moved higher. Eventually, they came upon a clearing near a sheer cliff’s edge, surrounded on every other side by a copse of amethyst-colored woods. 

They worked quietly and efficiently on preparing the campsite, tending each to their own responsibilities in wordless unison. Ryne raised the tent, stowing their bedrolls and other belongings inside, while Gaia built and then tended to the fire. As night descended and the shadows grew long and deep, the growing flames danced in Gaia’s dark blue eyes. 

It was when they had finished their duties, and both sat around the fire, that the focus and concentration of responsibility faded into something more quiet and introspective. Now they sat together as the sun hit the rim of the world and painted the sky in colors of deep rose and shadowy plum, and for a time there was only the sound of the crackling fire.

“You didn’t have to fight them alone, you know.” Ryne’s quiet voice rose into the growing darkness. She had a long, thin branch, and she poked beneath one of the charred logs, causing sparks to crack and snap in the air.

It was such a brazen statement that Gaia at first thought Ryne hadn’t said it at all, rather that it was just another one of her voices, come to provoke her. But as she turned her head, she saw that Ryne had been looking at her. 

“I know,” Gaia began, and then she looked into the fire searchingly, desperately, as the emotions swelled within her, “I just, I don’t want to feel like a burden to you.”

“But, you’re _not_ a burden,” Ryne insisted, the emotion rising in her voice.

“...I thought I was a burden once, too,” Ryne continued. The hand that had been tending the fire had gone still. “Even though everyone kept saying I wasn’t.”

She stopped, and looked Gaia straight in the face with a determination that Gaia couldn’t deny. “ _I_ was the only one who could change my mind,” and then she brought her free hand to her heart and closed her fingers, as if grasping for her own resolve. “But I didn’t do it alone. And neither will you.” 

Gaia paused, trying to find the right words. “You think so highly of me, but I don’t know if I deserve that,” she murmured as her eyes dropped downwards, watching the glowing embers within the deepest parts of the flames.

“What’re you talking about?” Ryne said suddenly, her voice as confused sounding as she looked, “You... saved me.”

“I just did what had to be done. To prevent a second flood. _Anyone_ could have done it.” Gaia let the dishonest words, fueled by her own self-doubt, escape with a forced nonchalance.

“We both know that’s not true!” Ryne shouted, and the startling intensity of it caused a handful of birds to flutter from the trees behind them and into the darkening sky. 

Ryne turned away, but not fast enough for Gaia not to notice the tears forming in her eyes.

A pang of guilt shot through her, but she hesitated. She had said something incredibly foolish and upsetting. _Why?_ A myriad of wild thoughts flew through her mind. Should she give Ryne space? Was the conversation over? Could she even come back from this? 

If she had been listening to her logical self, she would have followed Ryne’s lead. Ryne, after all, had been calling the shots on their journey thus far. But Gaia was done with following behind. This time, she would be the one to take action; but not as a leader. She would come to meet her, and be with her on equal footing; side by side. She would make things right.

“Hey, I’m sorry…”

She moved closer, so that their thighs touched on the grassy forest floor. Ryne didn’t turn her head at first, but when Gaia put her arm around her, she didn’t flinch. In fact, she seemed to melt into the touch, leaning so that she pressed her body slightly against Gaia’s own. 

“Why are _you_ sorry?” Ryne said in a small voice, as an implication that she had already forgiven her, or perhaps a means of encouraging her to continue.

“Those things I said, I didn’t mean them,” Gaia soothed. Ryne’s athletic form felt sturdy and solid as she held her, and as close as they were now, Gaia could almost hear Ryne’s heartbeat. It wasn’t steady and strong, as she would have thought, but fast and tumultuous, and Gaia suddenly wondered just how badly her words had upset her.

“I know you didn’t,” Ryne said quietly, “but I still didn’t like to hear you say them.”

Gaia pursed her lips, frowning slightly, “I feel like all I’ve done so far is ruin your trip,” she admitted, “I know how badly you wanted this.”

“It’s _our_ trip, and you’d only ruin it if you weren’t here.”

The simplest statements were sometimes the most effective, and now it was Gaia who felt a knot in her throat.

“Well, I’m still here.”

“Good.”

They sat like that, with Ryne leaning against Gaia as they both gazed into the fire and felt the warmth of its heat, in a pleasant silence that permeated the entire wood. Gaia was acutely aware of Ryne, and how she leaned against her so easily. When was the last time they had been this close? Gaia coveted the feeling, doing everything in her power to lock this memory away, for she knew not when she would next be so fortunate.

Gaia looked up. Night had fully composed itself, enveloping the sky in a vast, star-strewn darkness.

“I never thought the night’s sky would be so beautiful, and yet still so remarkable. I’m not certain I’ll ever get used to it,” she paused to smile fondly down at Ryne, “I have you in part to thank for that, don’t I?”

“Mm, I suppose so,” Ryne smiled tenderly back, and it made Gaia’s heart ache, “Il Mheg was the first place I saw the night returned to. It was so amazing. The light was like fabric and the night sliced right through it. I wish you had been there to see it,” She paused, and she took Gaia’s hand within her own. “It was the first time I really felt… hope.”

“Now you’re the one who gives us all hope,” Gaia murmured, and without thinking she raised Ryne’s hand to her lips. She kissed her knuckles once, and then twice, shuddering inwardly as the warmth of Ryne’s faultless skin brushed against her. Oh, how she had _wanted_ this. She lifted her head, lowering Ryne’s hand as she realized Ryne was staring up at her with wide, blue eyes.

Gaia froze for a moment as the silence stretched out between them, and they stared back at each other. Ryne parted her lips, as if to speak, but Gaia gently let go of her hand and looked back towards the enduring flames. Her heart was pounding, each beat driving her further towards the realization of what she had done, and _how_ she had done it. 

“We should turn down soon,” she managed to say, and she moved just enough to allow Ryne, who seemed almost to be trembling, to withdraw. _To allow her to escape_ , her inner voice mused with disgust, _from you._

“Y-yeah,” Ryne replied quickly, as she pushed herself to her feet, “I guess it’s getting pretty late. I can take care of the fire.”

And just like that, the moment had broken. So fragile and brief it had been, and broken as strongly and inexorably as a mirror cracks, not in just one place, but all over. Gaia felt a mixture of relief and dread as she bent down to enter the tent. _What had she done?_ It was a question she couldn’t answer, for despite Ryne being usually so open and forthcoming, Gaia couldn’t read her over this.

Gaia’s bedroll was there inside the tent, as well as all of her things, laid out so thoughtfully by Ryne. She wiped away her makeup quickly. Outside, she could hear Ryne stifling the dying flames. She crawled into her bedroll, and by the time Ryne had entered the tent she had made sure to seem fast asleep.

In the near-darkness, she heard Ryne climb into her own bedroll, tossing and turning, until at last she had gotten comfortable, and then, just before drifting off to sleep, Ryne had whispered to tell her goodnight, as she had been doing every night, since they had first met.

But this time, it was _different_ , in a way that Gaia couldn't place her finger on. And she knew not, in that moment, whether it was Ryne who had said it differently, or if it had seemed different to her because she herself had been changed.


	6. Tempered Glass

Ryne was already up by the time Gaia awoke. As she opened her eyes she noticed that Ryne, who sat facing away from her, was looking down at something she held within her hands. With Ryne’s back to her, it was impossible for Gaia to see what she held, or to know for how long she had been staring down at it. She must have made a small movement then, for when Ryne had heard the rustle of the bedroll, she heard the subtle snap of something like a hinge being closed. 

“Good morning!” Ryne shifted to turn towards her; her voice brighter than the rising sun and immediately putting Gaia at ease. She rolled over theatrically, facing away from her and closing her eyes against the morning light shining through the tent’s fabric.

“Mm, I’m still asleep,” she murmured.

“Very convincing,” Ryne laughed lightly. She was already starting to pack up her things, “but if we leave now we’ll be there in time for lunch!”

Gaia pushed herself up to a sitting position. Her hair was in disarray, and without her makeup on, she knew she looked a little worse for wear. She found that she didn’t seem to mind at all, for Ryne to see her like this.

“Why do I have a feeling this entire trip is going to revolve around food,” she quipped, but it wasn’t even a moment later that her stomach gave a rumbling growl. Gaia wouldn’t have been surprised if it had scared off any wildlife in their vicinity.

“Sounds like you should be thanking me,” Ryne teased, and Gaia looked away from her, pursing her lips poutingly as her cheeks went red.

* * *

The remainder of the journey went by quickly. They shared in lighthearted conversation, with Ryne continuing to tease Gaia, and Gaia willingly accepting her attention.

After all, nothing had really changed, had it?

There would be no need for dreadful awkwardness; or uncomfortable exchanges, where Gaia was sure to miserably stumble over her words. Last night, she had been reckless. She had acted on a feeling, without considering the consequences. Yet Ryne seemed either decidedly oblivious or unwilling to broach the subject of what had happened. And for that, Gaia convinced herself, she was lucky.

Thankfully, those challenging thoughts all seemed to fade into the background as they neared the Crystarium’s main gates. The ground sloped up again, and as they approached it became more difficult for Gaia to lift her head to see the tower’s apex. The Crystal Tower flashed a radiant, ethereal blue, glittering in the sunlight as billowing white clouds floated lazily beside and behind it. 

It was truly a sight to behold.

Ryne must have felt the same, for as they walked, she felt Ryne’s hand reach out for her own. Gaia drew in a sharp, faltering breath as their fingers intertwined. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Ryne said, excitement rising in her voice. 

“Breathtaking,” Gaia remarked as evenly as possible, “...truly.”

 _This is normal_ , Gaia told her herself. _It’s normal to just hold her hand. Friends do that, right? And you’ve been doing it all this time. And she’s the one who started it, so… just go with it._

And so they walked hand in hand along the long wooden bridge. Finely crafted geometric archways rose high above them. As they reached the wide, open expanse of the Crystarium’s Rotunda, Gaia realized with a start that there were people all around them. Soldiers standing at ease, journeymen crafters gathered together, groups of traveler’s making their way past the gates, and a myriad of other people who looked just as fascinated by the enormity of the city as she. It reminded her of the Eulmore she had remembered from long ago, except _different_. Here, everyone seemed to carry themselves with poise and an air of responsibility. They had a reason to be here. They had a _purpose_.

The sight of it all had a sort of quickening effect upon her emotions, and she felt courage and ambition flowing through her, faster than her reproachful inner voice had time to surface and distract her.

She squeezed Ryne’s hand a little tighter, and moved closer to her as she spoke.

“I’m glad we’re here,” she breathed as she drew nearer.

“I bet your stomach is glad, too,” Ryne teased as she nudged her shoulder up against Gaia teasingly.

_Yes. This is fine. Just the sort of casual flirting good friends engage in. Nothing to worry about._

“My stomach will only be thanking you if you feed it something other than coffee biscuits.”

“So you’re saying you _don’t_ want sweets for lunch?” Ryne made a mock expression of deflated disappointment. 

“Certainly not,” she said coyly, and then she nudged Ryne back, her own shoulder brushing up against her. “However, If the sweets are _in addition_ to lunch, I’m sure I won’t complain.”

“Deal!” Ryne grinned.

* * *

The rest of the day stretched on before them like a promise. How good it felt, to be together in a place bereft of sand and unshelterable sun, full of color and life and light, and amidst so many, many people. 

So _many_ people, and yet so many of them seemed to recognize Ryne. Hard-faced Crystarium city guards nodded to her. Elderly, robed scholars and their apprentices turned to greet her. Engineers, their hands and faces streaked with grease, smiled as she passed. 

All at once, it hit Gaia, that these were people that Ryne had spent time with, made bonds with, and strove to protect. These were the people she sought to save. There was a beauty in watching her, as Ryne struggled to convey her emotions and accept their salutations and gratitude. She wasn’t used to crowds. She wasn’t used to being admired. She wasn’t used to being _herself_. 

_Just like me_ , Gaia thought quietly as she stood with her arms clasped behind her back, perfectly happy to be left in the background as Ryne was approached by a group of young botanists who seemed only a few years younger than Ryne herself.

“They said you made things grow in The Empty!” One of them called as the small group crowded around her. 

“Yes! _We_ made things grow,” Ryne replied as she pulled Gaia into view beside her, “Isn’t that right, Gaia?” 

Gaia felt herself blushing as she nearly stumbled into the spotlight. The botanist admirers turned their gaze to stare at her. 

“I hardly played a part...” Gaia began to mutter, but already the group was ecstatic, talking over her as well as themselves, and Ryne was the loudest of them all.

“Nonsense! We did it together,” and suddenly, Ryne looked as smug as her virtuous features would allow her, “Gaia here, she’s the Oracle of _Darkness_.”

“Whoa, really?” The youngest and shortest of the botanist apprentices looked up at Gaia with wide eyes.

Gaia could feel her neck going hot as she became suddenly self-conscious. They looked at her, but she didn’t know what to say, so she simply shrugged. This seemed to appease them, as if her shrug were the expected response for one so called the Oracle of Darkness.

“So you’re like, opposites?” Another girl asked, tilting her head to one side.

Gaia gave her a _look_ , but Ryne only smiled.

“It’s more like, well, do you know about the umbral and astral polarities? You see…”

And then, Ryne went all at once into a minutes-long explanation into aetherology, and as Gaia watched she saw the eyes of the young botanists glaze over as they nodded.

“...So basically, we’re a team!” Ryne somehow ended her studious oration with such a simple exclamation that it snapped all of them out of their inattention. 

Miraculously, this long winded response seemed to put a damper on the conversation, and, fearful of more lectures, the group hastily made their leave.

“Sorry,” Ryne said after a moment, her brows furrowing apologetically as she moved closer, and then it suddenly seemed like Ryne was straining to find the right words, “This is supposed to be _our_ trip. I didn’t think that we’d be getting interrupted like this.”

“It’s fine,” Gaia shrugged, “It’s not like you can help it, but… I’m not sure if you should tell people… about me.”

Ryne raised her eyebrows slightly, and tilted her head. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“The Oracle of Darkness,” As Gaia spoke her own title, the words felt odd and harsh, like smoke and ash caught in her throat, “It’s just something Urianger called me, isn’t it? And we don’t even know what it _really_ means.” 

She wondered then, how many times she would be named by another, and if she would ever truly feel right by it, or if everything she had been told about herself would feel as it did now, like a stolen mantle under which she hid.

Ryne seemed to consider her words, raising a hand to her lips as she pondered the statement and her bright blue eyes narrowed with the deepness of thought. Again, Gaia felt the urge to reach out to her, to pull her face up towards her, to...

“It’s true that we don’t know what it means, _yet_ ,” Ryne started, and then she looked up at her with startling seriousness, “but that doesn’t change how I feel, or what I said. We _did_ do it together. And I’m proud of you. I want people to see… what I see.”

Gaia could barely follow what Ryne had said, her words being so disjointed and unpolished, almost as if they were fragments of thoughts spilling out of her heart. It was the _emotion_ behind them that moved Gaia, pulling her inextricably in _that_ direction, and still with that overpowering drive she had been unable to quell or control.

 _To see what she sees._ Gaia’s heart skipped a beat as Ryne’s words reflected and refracted within her.

“And that’s why you wanted to come here, isn’t it?” Ryne said suddenly, brightening as she found a modicum of certainty and truth in her statement and, grabbing hold of it, her voice filled with a resolute surety, “To study, and find answers… at The Cabinet of Curiosity.” 

Gaia nodded simply, and Ryne smiled then, and, filled with renewed purpose, the two of them continued their exploration of the city. It was much to their combined disappointment that the Second Serving had closed early, set to host some such private event. Ryne had said they would be sure to go there first thing in the morning as the two of them made their way to the housing quarter known as The Pendants.

“I’ve got a room here,” Ryne had said to her as she had taken the key from the attendant and walked along the halls towards their room. “Thancred has one too, but it looked empty when we passed it. It’s kind of weird that he doesn’t need it because I’m pretty sure he and Urianger have been in the city for a while,” She said idly as she pushed the key into the lock and opened the door.

It was a surprisingly large room, with a wide window at the far end from the door. And so tastefully decorated that Gaia was sure Ryne had had assistance. As she stepped inside, she looked around and noticed a long dining table with benches on either side, and off in the corner a large, comfortable-looking armchair. Like any of the rooms she had once inhabited, Gaia noticed the tell-tale signs of Ryne’s presence. Piles of books, stacked up in one corner, and another journal, this one looking more used and well-worn than the one she had seen Ryne writing in as of late.

“We’re finally here!” Ryne exclaimed, nearly skipping into the room as she threw her pack onto the floor and fell upon the bed. And that’s when Gaia realized the one feature of the room she hadn’t noticed before.

The bed. A _single_ bed.

Surely, Gaia thought, with this being Ryne’s own room, Ryne must have known there would be only one bed. Gaia looked around. There wasn’t a couch or any other thing that looked sleep-able. But friends often shared beds, didn’t they? Gaia suddenly felt that drawing attention to her concerns would make it all the more obvious how she felt, and so said nothing.

“So, what do you think?” Ryne said simply, cutting into Gaia’s timorous reverie. 

“It’s a nice room. Certainly an upgrade from that dusty hovel.”

Ryne jumped off the bed and strode to the window. She pulled the curtains open, and light shone in with a piercing brightness. The scene was stunning. Lakeland’s violet forests and rocky mountains set before a scintillating azure sky, in sharp contrast to Ryne herself, who stood in pure, pale, statuesque stillness as she looked out at the expansive view beyond.

Gaia noticed the sun, arcing across the sky as it began it’s slow descent. No matter how slow it seemed, time would march ever onward, and soon, night would fall. They shared a hearty meal in the room, with Ryne mostly taking the spotlight as she told Gaia more stories of the Crystarium’s people and places. 

“So, what does tomorrow hold for us?” Gaia asked as she took a sip of water from a beautiful crystal goblet; her deep red lipstick leaving a mark on the rim. 

“Funny you should ask,” Ryne grinned, and then she pulled her journal out from her bag and set it onto the table. She paged through it, and Gaia noticed all sorts of notes, diagrams, tables and even illustrations, all in Ryne’s perfect script. Gaia wondered then when Ryne had had the time to become so skilled in penmanship.

“I’ve been planning this trip since, well…” and here Ryne’s ears turned that rosy shade of pink as she cast her gaze down at the pages, “since even before we restored the last element.” 

“I’m honestly not surprised,” Gaia murmured teasingly before she, too, focused her gaze upon the journal. It was a list of places and times, and some of the places had names. Much of it meant little to Gaia, but it was so well thought-out that she couldn’t help but be impressed. All those nights of writing, and some of it surely had been for this. For _her_. 

Ryne had said then that seeing as how full their schedule was, it would be a good idea to turn in soon. She stood, and Gaia watched her as she pulled her bedroll out of her pack. She had started to lay it out on the ground as Gaia spoke.

“You’re not seriously considering sleeping on the floor, are you?”

“I don’t mind,” Ryne spoke gingerly as she settled down onto the floor to spread the bedroll out.

“No. I won’t have it,” Gaia retorted with surprising boldness, “Not after the exhausting trip we just had. You’ll be sore for weeks!” Gaia stood and waved her hand as casually as she was able. “We can share the bed.”

It was commonplace for good friends to share a bed, wasn’t it? Besides, the bed itself was large enough for the both of them, and then some. And after all, how could Gaia live with herself, to make Ryne sleep on the floor of her very own room? Panicked thoughts competing for attention made it hard for her to focus as the two of them got ready for bed, and she wondered then, as she slid into the plush comfort of a bed that was so different from the creaky one back in Mord Souq, how her heart would survive this. 

She pulled the blankets up to her shoulders and willed herself to fall asleep, knowing full well that she was anything but tired. After a few minutes, Ryne turned down the lamp and slipped into the bed behind her, seeming to do so in the quietest and most subtle of ways. The depression she made on the mattress was so slight that, if not for her shallow breathing, Gaia was sure she would hardly know she was there.

Gaia shifted, and Ryne whispered, “Sorry... did I wake you?”

“I’ve been laying here for five minutes,” she whispered scoldingly back, annoyed more with her own frantic heartbeat than she could ever be with Ryne, “And you’re not bothering me. Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” Ryne said in a hushed voice.

In the darkness, after what seemed like an eternity, Gaia felt sure that Ryne must be asleep. Gaia had felt all at once relieved, and released a shaking sigh. But in that very moment, Ryne had moved closer, the sound of the fabric was a familiar melody as she inched up behind her, and Gaia felt Ryne’s body pressed against the back of her night dress.

“Goodnight, Gaia,” Ryne breathed the words dreamily, and in Gaia’s shadowy core there lingered that gentle, heart-shattering whisper, tempered with her own desire.


	7. Retrospective

“What are you looking at?”

Gaia’s voice traveled through the cool morning air that had been let in through the opened window of their shared room. The tone in her words was as subdued and somnolent as she herself felt, being kept up so late by a mixture of her own unwillingness to fall asleep, lest she miss out on a single priceless moment of Ryne’s sleepy closeness, and her own panicked thoughts on wanting that at all. 

She had at some point, thankfully, fallen unconscious, and now she had awoken in bed, quite alone and all the more thankful to avoid another overwhelming encounter. Ryne had risen early, as was usual, and had been sitting at the desk off to one side of the expansive window.

Again, Ryne had something in her hands. And again, when she realized Gaia’s wakefulness she closed whatever she had been looking at with a barely audible snap, and put it away in the desk's drawer. She turned, and was smiling. 

“Oh, nothing,” she said quickly, and then, “Are you hungry?”

Gaia hesitated, but only for a moment. If Ryne didn’t want to talk about it she wouldn’t try to force her, no matter how curious she was. 

“I suppose I can hardly keep you from your sweets for even a moment longer,” she jested lightly as she pulled herself out of bed and sat at a narrow vanity dresser at the far end of the room. “I’ll be ready in a moment.”

She looked at her own reflection in the mirror. It stared back at her. She wasn’t used to such a large mirror, having been barely able to find even a handheld one, back in Mord Souq. It reminded her of her past, or rather, the pieces of it. Trying to remember then felt as if she were beneath a great ocean, and her former life shone in flashes of light above the surface, but when the light came down through the waters toward her it bent and faded, and what had once been clear and bright was now transitory, and barely perceptible.

She brought out all of her makeup, setting each item down upon the smooth, glassy surface of the dresser. Putting on her makeup was a ritual she had often found solace in. Indeed, it was almost meditative for her to go into her full routine. A practice she had kept, even from _before_. Each product had a purpose, and she knew how much and in which order to use them all. She smiled, almost sadly, at that twist of fate; to retain and be so skilled at this one undeniably superficial thing, and then forget her own name.

She noticed movement in the looking glass. Ryne had stepped closer, behind her, and her expression was one of solemn curiosity, as if she, too, were observing a grand ceremony. Gaia had never been watched before, at least, not so directly. Ryne had perhaps stolen a glance, here or there, and especially back in that tent in The Empty, before they had had a chance to spend much time together. Gaia had been aware of it, even then, but she had refused to engage her. This was, after all, one of the few things that was still, truly and unmistakably, _hers_.

And yet…

“Is this all that interesting to you?” She asked as she opened her rouge with a snap and began to put the brush to her cheeks.

When Gaia spoke, Ryne seemed nearly to jump, and her hand came up to her chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare…”

“Stare all you like,” Gaia said coolly, “That’s what makeup is for, isn’t it?”

Ryne seemed unable to disagree with the statement as she swallowed hard and took a tentative step forward. Gaia saw her movements out of the corner of her eye, even as she led her own hand, meticulous and careful, to add hues of both light and then dark eye shadow, to bring out her eyes. 

She found a power in this, to be so controlled and compelling, as Ryne watched her work in silence, and though she could feel her heart beat harder in her chest, she was so in her element that it only encouraged her. She uncapped her lipstick, the dark, deep crimson of it almost shining in the rising light that passed beyond the window. 

As she pouted her lips and pulled the lipstick across the fullness of them, she made sure to watch Ryne out of the corner of her eye. Ryne parted her own lips, as if she had drawn in a sharp breath, and the sight of that made Gaia shudder with intrigue. 

_She likes this. She likes watching_ you _do this._

Gaia caught the thought, the feeling of it, and clasped it tight against her heart.

“I doubt you ever had the chance to do something like this, travelling with Thancred and the rest,” she said steadily as she pressed her lips together and closed the lipstick with a loud snap. The sound of it, or the question, seemed to jolt Ryne back to reality.

“No, I… you’re right. I hadn’t ever even thought to try…”

“And before that, in Eulmore?”

“No,” Ryne said sadly, as her focus went for a moment distant, and instead of looking at Gaia in the mirror, she looked at herself, “Nothing like that, before.”

_There’s a lot about me that you don’t know._

Ryne’s voice, as true and quick as an arrow, shot through Gaia’s heart, and she faltered for a moment. She would have given anything, then, to spend all day in their room and talk, and ask Ryne about all the things that had made her who she was. She was about to attempt to ask her, when Ryne spoke again.

“But maybe,” Ryne continued, picking her words carefully, “Maybe sometime... you can show me how?” 

“Of course,” Gaia responded immediately, “But, we’ll need to buy you your own set. I certainly doubt vermilion would suit _your_ lips. She pondered for a moment as Ryne shifted her weight from one foot to the other and bit at her lip. “Maybe pink, like the color of your ribbon.”

Ryne’s eyes lit up and she let the silken ribbon slide between her fingers as she glanced at it. 

“And eyeliner to match the blue jewels on your blades, I think,” Gaia mused, and Ryne looked down at the daggers on her belt. “Vivid sapphire, to accent your eyes.”

“I’d like that,” Ryne nearly whispered, and her eyes narrowed with subtle elegance, going low and lidded as her expression grew deep. Gaia wondered then what she must be thinking, but dared not ask lest she break apart that fleeting moment.

“We can shop for those things, today,” Gaia offered as she turned to look at Ryne, not from the mirror’s reflection, but directly. Ryne’s own gaze had rose and she looked straight back at her, eyes still lidded, lips parted. It was an expression Gaia was not familiar with, though it did pull back an image from the dream. Gaia put her hand on the vanity to steady herself as she rose, because the power in her stare was enough to make her feel nearly lightheaded. 

“But first,” she managed, “We should eat.”

* * *

The Cabinet of Curiosity was as quiet as a tomb, and though Gaia was unsurprised that a library should be so very quiet, it was, after all, the middle of the day, and she knew that outside those vast, thick doors the city was lively and thoroughly busy. Walking into it, after the excitement she had had with Ryne at the Second Serving, and the Musica Universalis after that, had seemed like walking into another world, and indeed, she must have seemed strange and otherworldly, dressed not in the librarian attire or scholarly robes that would befit such a place, nor with any idea where to go after taking that first step across the door’s threshold. 

Most of those few who had gathered there, in the middle of a beautiful, sunlit day, were so engrossed in their study that they gave her no thought at all, but there were some patrons who glanced at her, as the heavy doors closed behind her, and quickly looked away. Gaia guessed that they would wonder what she, who undoubtedly looked more suited for Eulmorean high society than for astute book-learning, would be looking for, _here_. 

Gaia couldn’t blame them. She had the same question.

The winding steps were dizzyingly steep as she rose towards the top of the central tower within the middle of the high-ceilinged, circular room, lined all around with books. 

A librarian in thick robes the color of sage turned his head, and his long, pale brown hair spilled out from behind his ear. He smiled politely as she approached.

“Welcome to The Cabinet of Curiosity. I take it you’ve not been with us before?”

Gaia pursed her lips, feeling silly for being so obviously out of her element, and shook her head.

“Ah,” the librarian continued, smilingly, “Then my next question will be an obvious one. What sort of reading do you require?”

“Do you have anything… about the Oracle of Darkness?” 

“The Oracle of _Darkness_?” He looked perplexed, and a hand rose to his chin, brows knitting as he pondered the question. “I’m afraid not, nor have I heard that exact term before. There is, most assuredly, a vast bank of knowledge on the Oracle of _Light_ , and though some scholars have suggested a counterpart should exist in _theory_ , there is no factual data available to ascertain this truth. Is this wording of your own invention, or…”

Gaia wasn’t sure how to respond. She felt all at once cornered, and afraid to delve deeper into this conversation with a perfect stranger, no matter if his intentions seemed reasonable and good. She shook her head quickly.

“My mistake. I meant the Oracle of _Light_.”

He eyed her levelly, and tilted his head. It seemed like he wanted to press her at first, but when she raised her arms and crossed them over her chest he raised a hand, as if in defeat. “Very well. I shall lead you towards the proper section.”

After the librarian had explained the types of books she might find and had left her, Gaia realized that she was quite alone in that small, secluded section. She glanced about idly. This was one of the few areas that was set into the library’s middle staircase; the one she had just climbed down. There was a small table with a lamp, and as she scanned the bookshelves that lined the inner wall they all began to blur together, until one stood out, quite clearly, in beautiful gold script upon a thick, black spine.

“The Illustrated Tale of the Oracle of Light,” she mouthed the words and gingerly slid the book from the shelf. It was large, due not to the number of pages but how it had been bound. It was a picture book, and Gaia guessed it must have been for children.

Through those pictures and scant few words, she polished that knowledge which she had been told and had remembered from her own childhood. The Oracle of Light was a title that many, many girls had assumed before Ryne. She had been called Minfilia then, as a tribute to the one, with shining sapphire eyes and golden hair, who had stopped the flood over a hundred years ago. Their savior had been reborn, and would continue to be. Their purpose, _Ryne’s_ purpose, the reason she had her powers, was to continue to fight back against the wretched light. An endless cycle of war, death and rebirth. 

Gaia put her fingers upon the Minfilia on the page, drawn to lay upon a broken battlefield in vivid colors and thick lines. She had pale blonde hair, and her eyes glowed blue. Gaia tried to imagine Ryne, looking like that, and couldn’t. The person drawn on those pages didn’t _feel_ like Ryne, and after flipping through a few more pages she put that book back in its place.

As she did so, she noticed there was a manuscript that had hastily been pressed between two other books beside it. She pulled it out and unrolled it along the table. It was a simple document, and seemed to have been mass-printed. There were no pictures this time, but the print was large. 

> _The Daily - Issue #2304_
> 
> _Oracle Escapes From Eulmore_
> 
> _It was almost seven years ago today that marked the day the Eulmorean Army found Norvrandt’s latest Oracle of Light. In accordance with Lord Vauthry’s ruling, the Oracle has since been kept, (as her Keeper, Ranjit, put it), under lock and key. This, the citizens of the Crystarium have been told, is so that she is kept under Eulmore’s strict protection and prevented from further intensifying and/or provoking sin eater aggression, though it is yet to be seen when cities other than Eulmore will benefit from their complicit pacifism._
> 
> _News from Eulmore has reached the Crystarium. The Oracle of Light has been spirited away by a mysterious individual as of yet unknown. Lord Vauthry has pointed a finger at the Crystarium, and has called for the Exarch to give up his quarry. This turn of events has considerably soured the Crystarium’s concordant with Eulmore, and the Mayor of Eulmore has refused all future visitation._

Gaia lifted her hand, so that the manuscript furled closed. She sat back, looking up at the high, glass ceiling. Clouds traveled lazily overhead, covering the blue of the sky in opaque pearl tones. 

_Seven years a prisoner._

She stared down at the name of Ryne’s warden. _Ranjit_. Gaia felt the name on her tongue like a poison, and anxiously wondered if he had been kind to her, and what had become of him. 

It hurt Gaia, to even think of it. Ryne had been locked away for all those years, in the very same city as she had spent her days. Gaia had lost most of those memories, but Ryne had surely kept all of her own. Seven years of loneliness and isolation. Seven years of being guarded carefully and cautiously, like a weapon that might misfire. 

Seven years, and then, even when she was freed she was still not yet _herself_.

Gaia scanned the shelves and found a pamphlet. This one looked nearly untouched, newly printed, and it smelled of fresh parchment.

> _On the Nature of the Oracle of Light_

> _Much and more has been written on the conquests of Minfilia, The Oracle of Light. Starting from the first copy, who, it is written, was revered as nothing less than divine, but were they all nothing more than reproductions, mere duplicates; mirror images to the Original, and to themselves?_

Gaia frowned at the words and flipped past some pages, unsure of what she was looking for until she saw it. Ryne’s name in black ink. It stood out against the page and Gaia put a finger to it, and read.

> _What then, of Ryne? She who has cast off Minfilia’s mark? She, who it is said, wrested control of the power and took it for her own? What then, of she who so suddenly and so easily sent the real Minfilia to, shall we even guess it, oblivion?_
> 
> _We will of course, as we have always done, trust in our Oracle, no matter if she takes a new name, but from where does her power now come? Or was it the Original herself, who had taken some small portion of influence, from somewhere or someone or something else? And from whence did that power spring forth, and what holds, centers, and balances it, as some suggest the very elements do for each other. There are those certain aetherologists, who will assail you with this, the curious nature of light and dark. Two-toned echoes, twinned and mirrored, parallel, opposing, and yet strangely inseparable. And do we not all remember the old adage, having been passed down through the ages?_
> 
> _Like a moth to a flame, light is drawn to darkness  
> _ _And so too, does the flame of darkness find itself drawn to quenching light_

The words seemed to leap off the very pages and insert themselves as deep and sharp and dangerously as caltrops within Gaia’s heart. She closed the pamphlet and set it back upon the shelf, and then she sat back and bit at her lip. 

What did any of it mean? Or did it mean anything at all? This last text seemed more like something someone like Urianger would have written in a fit of hysteria than something that had been studied and accounted for. And yet… something about it seemed to resonate with her. 

As the clouds above began to yellow with the setting sun, Gaia realized she had spent far too long away, and for a moment she felt disheartened to know she had learned virtually nothing more about the faerie’s powers, or why she had them.

She had sought answers for herself, and all she found, again and again, was Ryne. She looked down and smiled at that. Of course it would be Ryne, who she found here, and who she guessed she would find anywhere she looked; anywhere at all.


	8. Embolden

“ _Mmm_ , Gaia. This is _amazing_.”

Ryne’s giddy voice rose high into the glass-domed ceiling of the Second Serving’s dining hall. The sky shone through the transparent glass, going slowly from pale yellow, to pink with lavender clouds, and now as morning stretched into mid-day the upper atmosphere began to dip again into that sharp, pure blue. 

“You really need to try it. It’s _so_ good,” Ryne’s voice dropped lower as she pushed her chair and her bowl closer, so that she was sitting practically next to her. 

Gaia glanced down at the bowl. Ryne had ordered the most decadent ice cream sundae Gaia had ever laid eyes on. Multiple scoops of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry ice cream were piled one atop the other in a dizzying display, and drizzled liberally with warm chocolate syrup and caramel sauce. Sliced bananas and cherries lined the rim of the bowl, and a heaping few dollops of whipped cream crowned the entire spectacle.

She tore her gaze away, looking down at her own lemon waffle, which now seemed quite humble in sudden comparison. 

“I’ve my own meal to finish, and I’d say ice cream is hardly an adequate lunch,” Gaia replied reproachfully, but already Ryne was smiling in that knowing, self-satisfied way.

“That’s what you said yesterday,” and she moved ever closer, so that their arms touched above the table, and their thighs beneath it, “but don’t you remember the face you made, when you finally gave in and tried the coffee biscuits?”

Gaia could feel her face going red. What kind of absurd face had she made yesterday, and why had Ryne remembered it, and thought to point it out now? Since when had Ryne mastered the art of teasing her?

“I don’t think--” she began.

“Come on, just one bite. _Please_?” Ryne asked, honeying her proposal with a sweetly hopeful look in her eyes, and a nearly theatrical pleading tone in her voice. “I’m sure you won’t regret it.”

Gaia’s cheeks felt nearly on fire, and the sound of something cool suddenly sounded very timely and appealing.

“Fine,” she muttered, and she opened her mouth, closing her eyes because what else _could_ she do in this strangely awkward moment except wait for Ryne to put the spoon to her lips.

And after that, as Gaia swallowed what was likely the tastiest ice cream sundae she had ever had the chance to try, she had to admit that Ryne had been right. The sundae _was_ good. Amazing, even. That thought, mixed with the embarrassment of how inelegant she must have looked just then, made her give Ryne a cool, almost sobering look. Ryne beamed back at her.

“How was it?”

“It was _fine_ ,” she managed a reply. 

“Oh, well _I_ know that means you liked it,” Ryne said liltingly as she took a spoonful for herself, and then, suddenly and hastily, she looked at the great grandfather clock that stood off to one end of the expansive dining hall.

“Oh! It’s already almost noon,” she stood, and grabbed her things, “Sorry, I didn’t realize the time. Thancred won’t like it if I’m late.” She winked at Gaia, and Gaia was about to open her mouth, but...

“Oh, it’s quite alright,” _Alisaie’s_ voice was clear and light and bright as a bell, and as she sat across from Gaia at the table, she looked quite comfortable, smiling politely up at Ryne. “I’m sure the two of us will manage well enough on our own.”

Ryne smiled back and waved. “Thanks! And it was good to see you again, Alisaie!” 

And then, Ryne stepped closer and bent forward to give Gaia a hug. “I’ll see you later,” she said then, her voice dropping almost to a whisper, and Gaia tried very hard to look anywhere but at Alisaie, who was very obviously staring at the both of them.

Then, Ryne ran off to her appointment, and Gaia and Alisaie were left quite alone, sitting across from each other at their circular table.

“So,” Alisaie said, and at that single word Gaia nearly flinched, for she had spoken it in a way that felt like an arrow being drawn tight upon a bowstring. That one word hung in the air, almost like a threat. Gaia had begun to hold her breath without realizing it and she leaned fractionally forward, to catch whatever came next. 

But Alisaie did not immediately continue, and slowly, the hand that delicately held the handle of her coffee cup rose, and she took a slow, nearly-audible sip of her drink. Gaia was just about ready to explode, when finally, Alisaie spoke again.

“How _was_ that sundae?”

Gaia stared at her. Alisaie continued to smile quietly back at her. It was such an unsettling exchange that Gaia couldn’t tell whether she should feel attacked or delighted that the conversation had been seemingly steered into the mundane. And yet, Alisaie’s smile seemed smug. _Knowing_. And the way she had said the words seemed still loaded, like a cartridge set in the cylinder of a gun, or a cannonball sitting at the bottom of the bore, awaiting ignition. Gaia swallowed hard.

“Like I said,” she replied evenly, “The sundae was fine.”

“Hm,” Alisaie said then, and Gaia watched as her fingers danced around the rim of the plate upon which her cup sat. “And the waffle?”

“Cold now, after all of that.”

“But you’re still hungry, aren’t you?” Alisaie’s voice slowed, almost to a drawl. It unnerved Gaia even more than the silence.

And even though Gaia was still hungry, she shook her head. 

“Hardly! We must have visited a dozen places to eat, since we’ve been here. I doubt I’ll be hungry for weeks,” She said defiantly, her tone catching an air of indifference as she spoke, even as the cherished memories of her and Ryne enjoying all those meals together flashed into her mind.

“She’s giving you the full tour, is she?” Alisaie asked quite innocently. 

“Well, she’s the one who really wanted to come here.”

“And you came with her, all the way from Mord Souq.”

“Well, I couldn’t let her go alone, could I?”

“I see.” And then Alisaie smiled in a different way, and her focus shifted and she looked into the distance, out past the glass paneling of the dining hall’s transparent enclosures, and Gaia felt suddenly a little more relaxed now that her laser-focused gaze wasn’t set upon her.

“I know the feeling,” Alisaie said with a simplicity that seemed enigmatic. Gaia tilted her head curiously to one side.

There was a lull in the conversation. Gaia cut into the waffle with her fork in awkward silence. The sound of dining utensils delicately clinking against plates had subsided as the morning crowd had diminished. They were more alone now than they had been before, with only a few patrons at tables far and away from where they sat. 

Again, Alisaie rose her coffee cup to her lips and sipped. Gaia became increasingly aware of the ice cream sundae, and how it had just begun to melt, one drop of creamy dark chocolate sliding down the lip of the bowl. 

Alisaie was the first to speak.

“Mord Souq, hm? I’ve taken that journey. Quite a few times, in fact.” She paused. “Are you familiar with The Inn, at Journey’s Head?” 

“I’ve seen it, from afar.”

“Ah,” she said, and then, “It’s not much to see, but I used to- I call it home... away from home,” and she returned her gaze to Gaia, and smiled more subtly. “Perhaps you and Ryne will make a visit there, someday.”

Another pause. Another cloud, passing lazily overhead. Gaia felt uncertain; guarded. Alisaie seemed to be sizing her up, eyeing her appraisingly as her head tilted to one side and her blue eyes, deeper than Ryne’s and more closer in hue and shade to Gaia’s own, narrowed imperceptibly. 

“You’ll take care of her, won’t you? She hasn’t had it easy.”

The sudden directness of the statement made Gaia lean back as is to dodge a strike. 

“What are you--”

“Your ice cream is melting,” Alisaie cut her off, sounding suddenly nonchalant and immediately shifting the mood of the conversation. She leaned forward across the table and her fingers captured a cherry from the sundae’s bowl, “Do you mind?”

It was such a strange question that Gaia couldn’t help but knit her brows and frown. “Not at all,” she remarked idly, staring as Alisaie leaned back and put the cherry _stem and all_ , in her mouth. Gaia’s mouth dropped fractionally open as she stared at her. Who _was_ this person?

“...Ryne hardly needs taking care of,” Gaia murmured, leaning forward to grab the spoon for herself. As she continued to speak, her words gained more power and passion. “She’s the Oracle of Light, and she can control Eden! Oh, I could tell you stories, of how she helped to summon primals. Of how she became the vessel for one, and survived. And for all that, she’s humble, and kind, and strong, and… she’s beyond amazing, really. I--” 

Gaia realized she was rambling and caught herself as she looked across the table.

Alisaie was smiling; had been the entire time Gaia spoke, but now she opened her mouth, and pulled out the cherry’s stem. She had tied the stem in a perfect knot, with her tongue. Gaia stared at her as she placed the stem down on an empty plate. 

“What--” Gaia began.

“You’re in love with her.”

Again, the conversation rose and intensified as Alisaie let loose the arrow, struck the hammer into the cartridge, lit the cannon’s fuse, and all at once Gaia’s emotions burst and her face colored as she dropped the spoon she had been holding so that it sunk into the melting sundae.

“Absolutely _not_ ,” Gaia managed sternly, resolutely, voice shaking even as she said the words, “We’re just friends. We’ve just been friends, all this time. There’s nothing--”

“Listen,” Alisaie said simply, and Gaia stopped again. Alisaie couldn’t be much older than she, and yet she had the mature skill of being able to command and control a conversation with ease. 

“I’ve been there,” Alisaie broke the silence, and now it was her turn to look away, and Gaia could sense a hint of struggle in her voice. “More than once.”

Gaia stared at her, wanting to speak but knowing in her heart that Alisaie meant to continue, and so she simply watched her, and waited for her to speak again as clouds drifted overhead and a few blackbirds coasted through the sky.

“One of those people,” Alisaie paused again, and Gaia noticed a barely perceptible tremble in Alisaie’s lips, like the last dying ripple of water disturbed. “She’s gone now, and I never had a chance to tell her how I felt.”

“I’m… sorry,” Gaia wasn’t sure what to say, and she felt that her words, however heartfelt, seemed hollow. Still, the thought of it hit her. Loss. She hadn’t experienced much of that, unless she counted her parents, or, more accurately, the memories of them. There was the loss of her old self, whoever that was. But to lose someone _else_. Someone she cared for. 

_Someone she couldn’t live without._

She had felt that feeling again. The one that had burst forth at the Great Glacier when the threat of losing Ryne had been all too real. 

“Surrender to your feelings. Give in. Move forward. _Together_. Not all battles are meant to be won,” Alisaie waved her free hand and for the first time she looked awkward. “Try the sundae, and all that.”

This person, Alisaie Leveilleur, was one of those people that Ryne had called _family_. And Alisaie wanted Ryne’s happiness, just as much as Gaia did. In that understanding Gaia found a bond, and she could feel the warmth of her voice spreading to her chest as smiled for the first time since they had been left alone. “Thank you,” she said simply, because what else was there left to say? What would words mean, next to actions? She had a feeling Alisaie felt the same.

“Yeah,” Alisaie murmured, smiling back at her until she saw something behind Gaia that caught her eye. Far off in the distance, in the vast courtyard, there strode the Warrior of Light, most assuredly heading off to her next objective. Her hair blew in the gentle Lakeland breeze. As she watched her, Alisaie’s own expression shifted to one of thoughtful determination, and she spoke next more to herself than to anyone else.

“Now I just need to learn how to take my own advice.”


	9. Affinity

Gaia found their shared room empty upon her return from the Second Serving. She was half glad that Ryne seemed to still be visiting with Thancred. After her conversation with Alisaie, she had a lot to think about.

She closed the door and walked to the window, drawing the curtains closed. The thick, velvety fabric blocked out the late-afternoon light with ease. With the room being now so dark, it felt almost like she had sent the room underground, or deep beneath the sea. With the darkness there was that feeling of a weight and a quietude, and Gaia found it decidedly comforting. She lit the lamp low, just enough for the light to reach the walls. 

The Crystarium, with its wide open courtyard and transparent glass ceilings, while a pleasure to behold, did sometimes make her feel scrutinized, as if she were beneath a great magnifying glass, or trapped within a crystalline cage. Now, with the curtains closed and the dim light shimmering gently from the narrow flame, she felt quite concealed.

She had thought to rest. Perhaps Ryne would return soon and they would prepare to go out for an evening meal. As she walked towards the bed however, she stopped and glanced at the long, wooden desk. Ryne’s desk, the one she had sat at this morning, looked dark and inviting now, and especially the handle of the drawer where Ryne had put away whatever she had been holding then.

Gaia took a tentative few steps towards the desk while her mind mulled her actions over. She didn’t _need_ to know what was in the drawer. It didn’t particularly bother her that Ryne had kept it from her. She was all the more guilty of that herself, certainly, for having masked her own feelings as they continued to grow ever stronger. Hiding an object, whatever it was, seemed so paltry and trivial in comparison. 

But what _was_ it? 

That question, the pure curiosity of it, drove her forward. Her hand was on the drawer’s handle before she realized it. She pulled it open slowly, and looked down. Then, she tilted her head as she spotted only Ryne’s journals. Whatever else had been there before had been removed. 

Gaia frowned slightly and sat at the desk, keeping her eyes still on the pair of journals. There was the nicer looking one that Ryne had had in Mord Souq, and had brought with her, and that she kept her account of Eden’s activation in, among other things. And then there was the other one; the older one, looking worn and defeated, and much thicker than the first. 

Gaia reached down to touch the older journal. It was neither warm, nor cold, only gritty and dry. She pulled it heavily from the drawer and set it on the desk. Driven again to act without thinking, riding on the crashing wave of curiosity, and allowing her own unmitigated desire to lead her actions, she lifted the cover and flipped to a page quite at random.

The script there, while certainly Ryne’s own hand, was more compact and less refined. Gaia leaned forward to look down at the words on the page, lit by the lamp’s dull glow.

> _Ranjit almost took away my journal!_
> 
> _I had to promise not to ask anymore questions to the night guards. That should be easy. They don’t answer my questions anyway. Except that one man from a few weeks ago. I almost got him to tell me where we are. Haven’t seen him since then. That kind of thing happens more and more. Ranjit said we’re at peace, so why do the guards keep disappearing?_
> 
> _Someone made a mistake today, though. They brought me flowers with my meal. They’re sitting right here on my desk in a vase. I already looked them up in ‘Beauty of the Bloom’. Rewriting the passage here:_
> 
> _Sea thrift, (Armeria maritima), is native to the mountains and temperate coastal areas of Norvrandt. In bloom, they produce pink flowers in clusters on the ends of slender, unbranched, leafless stalks. Each flower has five petals joined at the base with five stamens and five separate styles._
> 
> _So I must be in Kholusia! Possibly Eulmore. Still not sure why Ranjit wouldn’t answer my question. When I asked him where we were, he just said ‘home’. That’s not enough. And this doesn’t_ _feel_ _like home. I’ve read about ‘home’ in my fairy-tale books. Home is the place you go back to after an adventure. A place that feels warm. You cook meals there and laugh about silly things with the people you care about. It sounds nothing like where I am right now._
> 
> _I’m glad he didn’t take the journal. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have it. Or my books. A window would be nice. Ranjit didn’t like that request either. He said that to see day after day only the never-ending light would be harder on me than to see nothing at all. I asked if it really had to be like this and he didn’t answer for a moment. Then he said this:_
> 
> _It is through acceptance alone that one may find solace in this godsforsaken world._
> 
> _Is that really true?_

Gaia turned the page, and there was what seemed like a flower petal, jammed into the crevice of where the pages were laid into the spine. The pink coloring had faded to brown, and it was paper-thin and tattered at the edges. It looked less like a petal and more like a torn piece of paper. The sight of it made Gaia lean back and look at the slight, glittering flame in the lamp.

She felt sick to think of Ryne’s previous life. To read it, written in Ryne’s own hand, was somehow worse. She had decided then that she should close the journal and be done with it. It wasn’t fair to Ryne, and in her heart she knew it, but as her hand moved to close the journal, the movement of it flipped the heavy pages further towards the end and another passage struck her, and before she could stop herself she was reading again.

> _I sparred with Thancred again today. He said I’m getting better, and when I said I wasn’t so sure he frowned and said that a weapon is only as effective as the trust in your skills to wield it. Then we did a second round and I feel like I did worse because he didn’t talk much to me after that._
> 
> _Things have been tense ever since we left Amh Araeng. Something happened there that I can’t quite recall. I felt myself fading away as_ _her _ _presence grew stronger within me, until it overpowered my own. That’s never happened before. Usually I just feel the pull of her, or the whispers. This was something different and it frightened me. She talked with him then. I don’t know for how long or what they said. He hasn't mentioned what happened, but now when he looks at me he seems hurt and he looks away from me when I talk. He seems to care very deeply for her. It must hurt him to be around me and be reminded of her, so I’ve kept to myself as much as possible._
> 
> _He said the next time we find a lower tier sin eater we’re going to attack together like we’ve planned. Even though I’m nervous about it I hope we find one soon. I want to show him that I can do this. Maybe then I won’t feel so useless. And If I fail it won’t matter. Maybe if I was gone it would be better for everyone. Thancred most of all._   
>    
> 
> 
> _The sin eater attack plan went all wrong. It would have been fine but I hesitated. The beast turned on Thancred and he took a hit from its tail. He killed it and he’s okay now but I ran over to him then with tears in my eyes. I told him how I felt. How I was hopeless. A burden. How I thought it would be better if I didn’t exist at all. He had harsh words for me then. He told me not to give up. He told me my life was my own. My_ _choices_ _were my own. I shook my head when he said it but his words are with me now as I write this. I don’t feel that I deserve his companionship but maybe he sees something in me that I don’t. I have to believe that to keep going. I have to._

Gaia stared down at the page. The words there were so dark and desperate and _familiar_. She never would have believed that Ryne had ever felt this way; a way she herself had been feeling only too recently. Ryne, who was so hopeful and bright and always had a kind word to say for anyone. Ryne, who had everything going her way. Ryne, who had managed to pull Gaia out of her own dark clouds of self doubt, over and over again. For Ryne to feel that way...

Gaia really wanted to close the journal. She couldn’t take much more of it, and certainly Ryne would be home soon, and how could she live with herself if Ryne knew she had read her private thoughts and feelings, and knew things that Ryne had not yet had a chance to tell her, herself? And still, just before the journal could finally close, Gaia pulled open the back cover, and turned to the journal’s final page, feeling disgusted with herself even as she read the words.

> _This will be the last time I write in this journal. I can hardly bear to go back and read the previous entries now. They don’t feel like my own. Not anymore._
> 
> _Urianger had told me to have faith. Have faith, and all will be well. He was right. They all were. The choice, my_ _destiny_ _, has always been my own. Travelling with the Scions these past few weeks has been such a blessing, and if they hadn’t helped me every step of the way I’m sure I never would have made it. And now, after all these years, I finally know what ‘home’ feels like. I finally know who I am._
> 
> _My name is Ryne._
> 
> _Oracle of Light and a Scion of the Seventh Dawn._
> 
> _My purpose is a shared one between myself and the person who has been inside me up till now. She was the person who pulled at my heartstrings and whispered to me and, in the end, she was the person who gave me my choice. Her name was Minfilia. She was from the Source and she traveled here, to our world, to save us from the flood._
> 
> _Our purpose, my purpose, is to make a difference. To help people. And someday, to give hope to others, that they might do the same._

After a moment, Gaia let the journal slowly and finally close. She sat in stunned silence for what seemed like an eternity, but was likely only a few minutes. She swallowed hard at the knot in her throat and her eyes fluttered shut.

Those few pages had been a deeper glimpse into Ryne’s past than Ryne herself had ever shared with her, and though it had been at first an innocent curiosity, she hadn’t meant to go so far. Had she? For there, in the deepest, darkest depths of her, was a voice that spoke into her heart and wanted _more_.

Gaia opened her eyes slowly, staring down at the second journal this time; the newer one. She bit at the inside of her lip as the light of the lamp quivered, and the flame of it painted the vaguest flickerings of light and shadow to dance upon her unreadable features.


	10. Persistence

In the end, in the slumbering darkness of their room in the Pendants, Gaia’s hands rose, and in a silent and almost reverent way she lifted Ryne’s newer journal and set it before her. 

Why did she need this so badly? What part of her breathed a sigh of relief as she opened the pages and sought out a Ryne she had not yet had the chance to know. What deep, dark place in her heart beat hard as the script, in Ryne’s own hand, and now so much more refined, nearly jumped off the page to take hold of her in a way that was somehow both comforting and suffocating all at once. That dark chasm within her was not only a figurative one, surely, for what stories did she have from her own past to fill it with and tell herself, or anyone? 

She had nothing, and Ryne was everything.

And so she began, choosing not to read page by page, but turning through pages at random, and reading what she found there, as if allowing fate to guide her hand. The first section of pages were written in a more official manner, and the drawings there were diagrams and seemed almost scholarly in nature, that told how each element had been brought back successfully to The Empty.

As Gaia got further in, the writings became more personal and more similar in format to the older journal. Gaia noticed that the drawings were far less studious. In one them, Ryne had sketched a picture of the skyslipper, with Thancred sitting at the helm. She had drawn herself, head barely peeking over the edge, looking out. Gaia found herself smiling at how endearing the drawing was.

> _It’s so white in The Empty. Completely barren. Most of Norvrandt is like this. Nothing for yalms and yalms except desolate plains and rising dunes. Nothing except for Eden. And Eden is the key. I could feel all of this back in the Crystarium, but now that we’re finally so close it’s all the more powerfully real._
> 
> _Eden. Utopia in Fae. When I named her that, Urianger smiled._
> 
> _Even as I write this I can feel my link with her. She’s still fighting, but she’s getting weaker by the day. And I’m getting stronger as our connection deepens. As I impose my will upon her a part of me can’t help but wonder who she used to be all those years ago. All sin eaters were just people, once. But now she’s not even really a sin eater is she? She’s something else._
> 
> _If you were here now I wonder what you would say. Did you know all along that we would seek Eden out? You put her to sleep a hundred years ago and I’ve awakened her, but our objective remains the same._
> 
> _What was once shattered can be forged anew._

The next page Gaia turned to had a sketch that had taken up almost half the area. It was of _Gaia_ , in full armor, holding her enormous two-handed sword. It had been drawn with care, and the words had been written around it.

> _We were attacked by the forces of darkness! My hands are still shaking. It wasn’t so much the battle that frightened me. It was what happened after._
> 
> _The armored knight who had been carried by a monstrous voidsent fell to the ground and screamed:_
> 
> _“Damn the Light.”_
> 
> _It was a_ _girl’s_ _voice._
> 
> _As she raised her hands to her ears and doubled over she cried out, asking what had happened and where she was. That all seemed so... familiar. My companions drew their weapons, but I ran forward. As I looked more closely at her I had noticed something._
> 
> _There was no light within her. Not a single ray. I’ve never had trouble seeing the radiance of Lightwardens or sin eaters. It’s unmistakable. But instead of radiance, within her I saw… nothing. Almost a negation. She reminded me then of Emet-Selch. He, too, had been on a different wavelength from the very start. I’m sure my heart beat harder in my chest at that._
> 
> _When I looked at her… your words came rushing back._
> 
> _No one, however powerful, is immune to the whisperings of doubt and despair._
> 
> _She’s sleeping now, and I’m focusing everything I have on Eden. The power to tip the scales. The power to mend this broken world. I can feel it just beneath the surface. I’m so close._
> 
> _At first, I didn’t want to even find Eden. I could have ignored the pull of those feelings. I was afraid, but deep down I knew that if I gave in I’d be spending the rest of my life wondering what could have been._
> 
> _And that girl… I just want to talk to her._

Gaia’s heart skipped a beat. So this is how Ryne had felt, back then. She continued to read, now with an almost fervent desire. 

> _I met Gaia properly for the first time today. We sat across the table from each other at Mord Souq. She doesn’t remember hardly anything except bits and pieces of her former life. She hears the whisperings of a power that resides within her, and I saw first hand how powerful she can be. She’s... amazing, really. And she’s drawn to Eden, just like me. She’s looking for answers. She’s desperate for them._
> 
> _I want to help her._
> 
> _…_
> 
> _Eden is entirely within my control now. Drawing out the elements of wind and fire in equal measure hardened my resolve and strengthened my will. She barely fights against my commands anymore. When I summoned Ifrit and Garuda, it took so much of my strength. I fell to one knee, and when I looked up, Gaia was watching me. She had been watching me, and she looked concerned. When I stood back up, she looked… impressed? I want to see her look at me like that again._
> 
> _..._
> 
> _I’m worried about Gaia. She’s been looking up at Eden all by herself at night. I need to talk to her. I want to invite her to the Crystarium, after this is all over. I’ve been rehearsing what I’ll say. Thancred said I have to be persistent. He said that if anyone can get through to her, it’s me. I have to believe he’s right._
> 
> _…_
> 
> _So much has happened since I last wrote. Too much. I don’t even know where to begin. Something happened to Gaia. I don’t really understand it myself. Darkness manifested within her, and it attacked us. We bested it, but then she fell into a deep sleep. I thought I had lost her. But she came back. I hugged her so tightly. I didn’t want to let go._
> 
> _I almost lost her a second time when I… well, I can’t write about that. Not now. Maybe not ever. But I will write this:_
> 
> _Trapped within the crystal, I could see her. The swirling purple darkness of her hammer as it came down to free me. And again I heard her say those words again. The ones I had heard her first speak, all those weeks ago._
> 
> _“Damn the Light.”_
> 
> _I don’t care if she’s marked by Darkness or by Zodiark. Light, dark, it doesn’t matter. She’s her own person. And I want to be by her side._
> 
> _…_
> 
> _It has been weeks since we’ve restored The Empty. Life, given the chance, continues to blossom and spread. It had been a gamble every step of the way, but we made it. As I write the recollection of it in these pages, it seems almost like I’m writing a fairy-tale._
> 
> _But after everything, something is still bothering me. Something I dare not write in my official recounting. We did so much for Norvrandt, but what about Gaia? She isn’t any closer to finding answers, and lately I feel like she’s becoming distant again. What if the faerie isn’t really gone? What if we tip the scales too far, and the darkness again awakens within her? I feel like I haven’t done enough, but what should I be doing? Unlimited potential, with Eden beneath my thumb, and yet I feel hardly able to help the person who means the world to me. It feels like a cruel joke._
> 
> _I just don’t want to lose her._

Gaia stopped reading and closed the journal quickly. She paused for a moment, feeling the rush of blood pumping through her neck as her heart beat fast and hard. 

She had finally reached her limit, and so she placed the journals back into the drawer, closing it gently. She rose from the chair and went to the window, opening the curtains onto a setting sun. The sky was blood-tinged orange darkening to crimson. The clouds were thick and deep purple. She held her breath as she watched the sliver of the star’s light move down below the horizon. 

Behind her, she heard the click of the lock disengaging, and the handle of the door opening. She turned, and there was Ryne. It had seemed like an eternity since she had last seen her, as if she had experienced all the time that had passed in the journals, even though in reality it had been but a few hours.

Ryne was smiling at her, and had a tray filled with dishes of food in her arms.

“I’m back! Sorry for the delay. Were you waiting long?”

“Longer than I would have liked, but you brought back an entire banquet, so I won’t complain too much.”

Ryne grinned as she walked into the room, letting the door close behind her.

“Well I hope you like it, I just got a bunch of things that sounded good that I haven’t tried before.” 

Ryne had started to set the tray down on the table. Lifting the top of it revealed a variety of different dishes. A creamy-looking salmon pasta, a smoky-smelling Paella, and grilled mushrooms on skewers were just a few of the things that caught Gaia’s eye. And the Pixieberry Cheesecake, of course.

“Never tried before? So, I’m your test subject? How much are you paying me for this?” Gaia said lightly as she walked from the window and sat at one of the benches at the dining table, surprised at how easily she could fall back into her normal rhythm and routine, despite having read and been so moved and affected by Ryne’s private thoughts and feelings.

Ryne laughed as she made her way to sit down on the same bench as Gaia, next to instead of opposite her. “If I said I could pay you with good conversation, would that be enough?”

“I’ll think about it,” Gaia said coolly, watching as Ryne made plates, except they weren’t separate plates for the two of them. “So, I don’t get my own plate, then? Are we meant to share a fork, as well?”

Ryne smiled, and her ears turned slightly pink, “No, we each get our own fork. But, I’ve always wanted to try this. Sharing plates, family-style. It seems fun, and… less dishes to clean afterwards?”

Gaia glanced at her, and she could feel herself melting in the warmth in Ryne’s expression.

“Seems an easy request to grant,” she said simply, “What shall we try first?”

Ryne had been right. It _was_ fun. And the conversation had been good. Gaia was surprised at her own easy demeanor. It was as if she hadn’t read the journals at all. Except that she _had_. And somewhere in the back of her mind she could feel the thought of what she had done, pulling at her like a bad dream that lingers after waking. 

“Did you and Alisaie have a good time after I left?” Ryne asked curiously.

“Y-yeah,” Gaia murmured, immediately changing the subject “And how was Thancred?”

“Thancred is still Thancred,” Ryne said jokingly as she forked a large bite of cheesecake into her mouth.

“What did you two talk about?”

“Oh…” Ryne paused, “Nothing, really. Just catching up. And I made sure not to mention that we borrowed the skyslipper.”

Gaia smiled slightly. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you tell a lie before,” she teased.

“Well, is it _really_ lying, if you don’t say anything at all?” 

They were both quiet for a moment then. Gaia had put her fork down and glanced out the window. The sky beyond the glass had darkened to night. Stars twinkled beyond the blackness, above the indigo-hued forest. The scene outside felt very still, and silent, as if in wait.

“I should probably tell him,” Ryne said simply as she took a final bite of cheesecake. 

“Probably...” Gaia echoed gently.


	11. Words Unspoken

It had been days since Gaia’s descent into the journals. Ryne seemed none the wiser to what she had done, nor to _any_ of Gaia’s secrets. There had been times since then where Gaia guiltily fantasized about Ryne finding out, first about the journals, and then about Gaia’s panicked inability to find answers to solve her own problems, and lastly and most importantly, about her feelings for her. How easy it would have been, for Ryne to just _find out_ and confront her. How easy, and how pointless a desire, for Gaia was becoming far too adept at concealing these parts of her, and in her mind she told herself that she did all of it for Ryne’s sake.

The two of them fell into a sort of routine, that started with going first to the Second Serving for brunch. After that, Ryne would often leave Gaia alone in the afternoon, and though Gaia had never pressed her on where she went, Ryne hadn’t been very forthcoming about it, either. In the lazy afternoons, Gaia had sought as much solace as the Cabinet of Curiosity could afford her, though she had determinedly tried to avoid the Oracle of Light section, and all but given up on finding any knowledge on her own predicament, instead spending much of her time choosing books to skim through at random.

The routine became comfortable. The time they spent together was full of laughter and fun. Gaia was starting to fall into the rhythm of it, and she looked forward to each new day. Ryne seemed happier than ever, and Ryne’s happiness was contagious. And yet still, in the back of Gaia’s mind, ever present as if burned there, was Ryne’s handwriting, the script hard and black and foreboding, the ink of it dripping into the corners of her mind and bubbling up to boil there beneath the heat of her own fear.

_I feel like she’s becoming distant again._

_What if the faerie isn’t really gone?_

_What if darkness again awakens within her?_

Gaia couldn’t bear to think of Ryne being so worried for her. But these questions weren’t ones that Gaia had any idea how to answer herself, and her search so far had been fruitless. And so, as those idle days drifted on, her happiness felt impinged upon, tethered to an unknown fate; and the ever present dread of losing herself hung around her like a thick fog. 

“Do you... want to go for a walk?”

Ryne’s words drifted through the cool night air coming in from the open window. Gaia looked up as if startled. She raised an eyebrow. They had spent another evening dining in, but Ryne had come home later than normal and they had taken their time deciding what to order, so they had eaten much later than was usual. Afterwards, Ryne hadn’t suggested they go to bed, but instead sat at her desk, reading. Gaia had brought back a book from the library, this one seemed a handy guide to the Crystarium itself, and had been distractedly paging through it while her inner thoughts and feelings ran rampant within.

“I didn’t think _you_ would be the one to suggest we go out so late,” Gaia replied curiously as she let the book’s cover close.

Ryne smiled easily as she pushed herself up from the desk. “It’s nice out. And besides, light activity after a big meal helps with digestion.”

Gaia shrugged and made a straight face. “The meal was certainly substantial. Will a simple walk be enough?”

Ryne smiled, pretending to ponder the comment. “I suppose we could spar, or sprint down to Sullen, or climb up the walls of Laxan Loft, or--”

“Actually,” Gaia interrupted her, “I think a leisurely walk would be acceptable, after all.”

* * *

As they exited out the large entrance way of the Pendants and onto the green, they passed The Wandering Stairs off to their left. At that later hour the tavern was more bustling than usual with patrons gathering mostly around the wide circular bar in the middle. The rowdy sounds of drunken celebration dyed down as they moved away, until all that could be heard was the sound of their feet upon the green grass of the Quadrivium. 

“Where are you taking us?” Gaia asked idly. She had gone into autopilot, happily following Ryne’s lead as they walked side by side. She looked all around, very much intrigued by the Crystarium at night. It seemed somehow magical, as if the darkness had turned the expansive glass-domed ceilings into dark, sparkling jewels. 

“I’m not sure,” Ryne said softly, albeit in her own distracted way. She, too, seemed taken by the Crystarium’s transformation, drawing in a breath as they ascended a small set of stairs and reached The Exedra. The vast courtyard opened up beyond them, with the Crystal Tower glowing off to their right, and the tops of lavender trees and the roofs that marked the Crystalline Mean forming a beautiful skyline beyond.

Ryne turned left, towards the Rotunda, and the two of them passed into the Aetheryte Plaza in a sort of trance. Gaia had forgotten, in that moment, about those feelings, struggling to escape, or the journals, or the absence of much-needed answers. There was only this moment, and Ryne. Only the two of them, enjoying a cool, gentle night’s breeze, together.

“I want to go higher,” Ryne murmured, and Gaia followed as she took the steps that led to the Baldaquin, Crystarium’s upper tier, and turned to head further east on the wooden deck there until they were looking out onto the Rotunda below. Gaia looked down at the bridge, lit now with lanterns, that connected the Crystarium with Lakeland, that they had crossed not more than a handful of days ago but that had seemed like weeks or months.

They stood, looking out upon the bridge, and the forests and mountains of Lakeland, and the darkness that was the sky beyond. In that silence, the mood shifted yet again, and now Gaia became acutely aware of Ryne, who stood close beside her. Ryne had her hands clasped behind her back. Gaia raised her own hands to rest on the railing before them.

“I used to walk alone at night a lot,” Ryne started, still looking up into the stars in the sky, as if transfixed. “After it came back.”

“Making up for lost time?” Gaia offered, trying to smile even as she realized how flippant and thoughtless her words suddenly seemed.

Ryne reflected on the comment for a moment, but she eventually smiled at it. “I guess it’s a lot like that,” she tilted her head, thinking, “When I was imprisoned in Eulmore, well, we didn’t have a night, but I didn’t even have a _window_.”

Ryne’s voice had gone thoughtful. Gaia swallowed hard as she remembered Ryne’s journal, and all that had been written there.

“So when I finally escaped, all I wanted to do was be outside. I wanted to experience all the things I hadn’t been able to, before.” and as she spoke, Ryne turned to look at Gaia. “But walking alone felt so…”

“Lonely?” Gaia quipped abruptly before she could stop herself, feeling idiotic even as her heart skipped a beat. Ryne’s tone had changed, and she could feel her eyes upon her. She had thought to keep her gaze fixed upon the stars, but she couldn’t find the will for it. She turned her head, and Ryne was staring back at her with an expression she had seen once before, back in Amh Araeng. Ryne’s blue eyes were wet with the start of tears. Her lips were nearly trembling. 

“Ryne,” Gaia said then, her voice hushed with sudden concern, “What’s wrong?”

Ryne nearly flinched at the sound of her name, and Gaia moved to put an arm around her. Ryne pressed against her, closing her eyes. 

Ryne didn’t reply immediately, and Gaia didn’t try to push her. For as hard and fast as her own nervous heart did beat, she wouldn’t force Ryne to respond if it would only ease her own anxiety and cause Ryne to struggle for her words. Gaia wondered idly how she had found such an amazing amount of patience and restraint, two things that had been so unlike her, before. She ran her fingers slowly and gently up and down Ryne’s bare shoulder, and the movement seemed to calm the both of them.

After a time, Ryne spoke in a soft voice.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

Gaia opened her mouth to interject, but Ryne continued, “I’ve been keeping something from you.”

Gaia’s heart nearly stopped, and she held her breath and willed her expression to one of even deeper concern instead of visible panic.

“If you don’t feel like you can tell me, it’s okay,” Gaia stuttered the words, which sounded lifeless and flat as she heard herself speak them. 

“No,” Ryne answered, “I’ve wanted to tell you, I just…”

Ryne shook her head slightly, and her smooth, coppery hair fell against Gaia’s chest.

“Thancred and Urianger won’t be staying here for much longer.”

Gaia tilted her head to one side. She wasn’t sure how much to assume, though she knew in some respects that those two, along with the rest of the Scions and even the Warrior of Darkness herself, had not come from this world, but were from another one altogether.

“I…. I don’t think he wanted to tell me yet, but I knew something was bothering him, and I pushed…” Ryne continued, voice shaking slightly as her expression became distracted, as if she were recalling their interaction, even then.

“I knew this day would come,” Ryne said with an almost simple bitterness, “Staying here too long might break the connection he has with his real body. He would never be able to go back.”

Ryne paused as if struggling for the words. Gaia’s hand lifted and she slid her fingers gingerly though a longer strand of Ryne’s hair. So absorbed was she in being there for and listening to Ryne, that Gaia barely noticed her own actions at all. At her touch, Ryne seemed to relax even further, melting against their half embrace as her resolve grew and her voice restored itself.

“And… I know he has people there, in his world, that he cares for; that need him. I won’t keep him from that, I just…” Gaia could feel wetness at Ryne’s eyes, pressing against her neck as she turned her head towards her and sobbed. It broke Gaia’s heart to hear it. 

“Sorry, see... this is exactly what I wanted to avoid,” Ryne said after a minute, smiling sadly through her tears as she shook her head again, “Worrying you with something like this.”

“I’m glad you told me,” Gaia said then, more strongly than she had meant to. Ryne lifted her head up to her, looking as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. 

“The scions are family,” Gaia murmured gently, “Thancred especially. I’d be surprised if you _weren’t_ taking it badly.”

Gaia paused, trying to find the right words.

“You’ll be fine, though. I’m sure of it,” Gaia said with an easy certainty. “You’re a lot stronger than you realize.”

Ryne nodded once and nuzzled her face against Gaia’s neck. When she spoke again, her lips brushed against her skin. Gaia’s breath caught in her throat.

“Because I have you,” Ryne whispered, and one delicate hand rose to Gaia’s shoulder to pull her into a comfortable embrace.

“...And I’m not going anywhere,” Gaia responded with gentle reassurance, but in her heart she wondered how true that statement could possibly be. How could she make such a promise, without knowing where her own destiny led her? She felt a knot forming in her throat, and she closed her eyes as her arms held Ryne more firmly.

“Actually,” Gaia started, taking a deep breath in before opening her eyes again. She pulled back slightly, so that she could look at Ryne as she continued, “There’s something I’ve been keeping from you, too.”

Ryne seemed to freeze, and Gaia could feel Ryne’s heart nearly pounding in her chest. It was strange, Gaia thought, that she should be so afraid. Then, that final line in Ryne’s journal came crashing down upon her like the weight of all the ocean. 

_I just don’t want to lose her._

Of course Ryne would be afraid. Especially _now_. And now, Gaia was certain, Ryne needed her more than ever. It was this thought, mixed with the closeness of Ryne’s form against her own, that gave her the strength to continue.

And what she had wanted to say, more than anything, was this:

_I think I’m in love with you._

But what she actually said, in the end, was this:

“I read from your journals.”

Ryne’s lips parted, as if she were about to speak, but Gaia continued.

“I didn’t mean to do it on purpose, though, I guess that doesn’t make sense. I wasn’t thinking, and I started reading through them before I had a chance to realize how foolish I was being.”

“You read them?” Ryne said, sounding more curious than angry.

“I wish I hadn’t, I wanted to hear it all from you. I feel like I’ve taken those moments away from us.”

Ryne smiled gently. “Well, it’s not like I can’t still tell you about all of those things.”

Gaia turned this thought over in her mind. It was painfully obvious, but, she hadn’t thought of it that way before. “But I’ll already know--”

“Will you?” Ryne asked objectively, “The person I was, when I wrote those things… I’m different now. I’m more different _now_ than I was a few weeks ago. I’m sure I’ll talk about it differently, too.”

Ryne smiled up at her, the corners of her eyes still red with her tears from before.

“That certainly makes me feel better," Gaia responded after another moment. "And you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Ryne said almost casually, “Were you worried?”

Gaia nodded slightly. In all of her imaginings of how this would have gone, she hadn’t imagined it quite like this. It was almost as if… Ryne _liked_ that she had read the journals. 

“You didn’t have to worry. I’m honestly surprised that you wanted to read them at all...” Ryne's voice trailed off as her ears went slightly pink and she averted her gaze. 

“I liked the drawings, too.” Gaia said as her eyes narrowed teasingly. “Though I’m not sure you can hold a candle to Alphinaud.”

Ryne’s eyes widened and she sought to hide her embarrassed expression by burying her face for a moment in Gaia’s neck. “I almost forgot about those…”

“I feel so much better now that we’ve talked,” Ryne said gently after a moment, turning her head to look up at the sky again. “Thank you.”

“Thanking me for something like that is decidedly odd,” Gaia murmured teasingly, but in her heart she felt the same.

“I mean it, though! I… really like talking, like this.”

“Me too,” Gaia replied simply. 

They held each other there, on the deck, beneath the twinkling stars, for a long time. Neither of them seemed willing or wanting to pull away. It was closer than they had been in days, and it felt so easy and natural now. Nothing like the disjointed and uncertain feelings Gaia had had back in Amh Araeng, when Ryne had needed her and Gaia had been barely able to move even though she wanted to, more than anything. Now, it was as if Gaia had somehow managed to bottle up her own self doubt and swallow it, burying it deep within herself.

As Ryne’s eyes lifted to the stars, Gaia tilted her head to glance at her and saw the twinkling brightness of them reflected in her eyes. And again, she thought the words she hadn’t had the strength to say. She thought them so hard, that she was half afraid that Ryne would hear the silent sound of them, or the feeling of them, and turn to look at her. The words felt so close and heavy and real, and she was certain if she opened her mouth they would escape. Part of her knew then, that she wouldn’t be able to hold on to those words forever. Someday, sooner or later, Ryne would hear them in whatever form they took. 

And part of her was beginning to think that maybe, just _maybe_ , Ryne _wanted_ to hear her say them.


	12. Bruit

_I’m still here._

Those three words, whispered in that same way that Gaia had been so acclimatized to for all those years before, came so suddenly and strikingly that Gaia at first thought she had said them herself, for they seemed so deep and absolute and _real_ even as she felt the cruel tone of them coming not from without, but within.

Gaia opened her eyes. Her reflection stared back at her. She was sitting in near-darkness at the vanity in their room at the Pendants. The curtains were open just enough for the light of the full moon to shine down onto where she sat, and she noticed in the mirror that her skin had a pale, almost translucent glow to it. She could feel fear growing in her heart. She had been so used to the faerie’s whispers, but now with so much time having passed, it was almost as if she were experiencing it all again for the first time. 

How long had it been, since the faerie’s voice had last come for her? Gaia remembered then that last time, after Ryne and the Warrior of Light had bested both the elements of wind and fire. The faerie had spoken to her, and then she had almost been lost to her own inner darkness. The Warrior of Light had felled that foe, too. But since then, the faerie had not presented itself. There had been only silence, and Ryne’s voice to fill it.

Gaia had hoped beyond hope that the faerie had truly vanished. Of course, she knew deep down that nothing could be so simple. And now, that which she had been dreading most had come to pass. The faerie wasn’t gone at all, and she felt sick to think of telling Ryne.

_I’m still here, and you’re still just as weak as you’ve always been. We would have expected more from you. But there’s still_ time _._

That final word was whispered with a shock of power so strong that Gaia was sure if she weren’t gripping onto the edges of the vanity she would have fallen to her knees. She wondered then if she were perhaps within a dream, and tried to look behind her to see if Ryne was there, sleeping, but Gaia found herself unable to turn her head to look. She sat before the mirror as if fastened to her seat, and her eyes could look only upon herself. But in her mind, she could see Ryne. She willed herself to see her, or hear her voice. Surely, that alone would break her from this… nightmare.

_My, but how fascinating..._

All at once, Gaia realized that the faerie could see her own thoughts. She nearly cursed under her own breath as she tried to bottle them up and push them far and deep and _away_ from the faerie’s prying consciousness. But her consciousness _was_ the faerie’s, and the mirror reflected her own panicked expression as her eyes widened and her lips trembled at the thought of the faerie coming to _know_ Ryne, the way she knew her.

_We should have guessed. Seems you’ve been using this_ momentary gleam _to your own advantage. You supposed the thought of her alone would be an aegis. A mortal failing, but we should expect as much from you. A dream is, after all, just a dream. And dreams are meant to be broken._

“Don’t you _dare_ touch her.” Gaia’s grip on the vanity tightened until her knuckles went white, and her eyes narrowed to fine, angry slits as she bared her teeth. The words had boiled out from a dark place within her, rasped with brutal aggression, and the hatred of them nearly surprised her. 

The faerie’s voice held itself within her as if pausing; a sort of humming vibration where silence should have been stretched before her.

_You’ve never spoken that way to us. And oh, such hatred as we’ve not yet seen before, in your words and in your heart. Knowing even now that you speak only to yourself, and yet you didn’t hold back. Perhaps not all is lost._

Now, the thoughts and feelings and memories of Ryne that Gaia had forced down came back into her mind as if pulled there. Dredged up and sudden, the thoughts were fragmented… and beautiful. Memories of their first meeting. The nights in the tent in the Empty. Ryne falling to one knee as she wrested control of Eden. Ryne holding Gaia in her arms with tears in her eyes. Ryne as Shiva in all her terrible beauty. Ryne smiling up at her as she held a small crystal within her hands.

Gaia reached up to hold her head in her hands, willing the memories away even as they flashed, one after another, within her mind. She could feel the faerie’s silence, foreboding and heavy, bearing down upon her. She pressed her palms into her temples and slammed her eyes shut, but that only made the faerie’s voice thicker and more palpable.

_Fools, the both of you. The power to end past, present and future wasted on children’s folly. And you, still running from your fate. Your time will come, and no one will save you. But, what’s this...?_

The faerie’s whisper was harsh and angry, as if frustrated, but in a moment of searching uncovered those _deeper_ feelings, and though Gaia held onto them she could feel again as each one was torn from her covetous mind and laid out before her. 

Ryne’s achingly sweet smile as she looked at Gaia from across the table. Ryne’s hand, reaching out to take her own. Gaia’s lip on Ryne’s knuckles, lit by firelight. Ryne, asleep, in the bed beside her, lips parted as she breathed slowly, and her chest rose and fell in gentle rhythm... 

“Damn you…” Gaia managed the words, even as she felt butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Those thoughts about Ryne were hers and her alone. For the faerie to see them...

_Ah, there we are._ The faerie sounded satisfied now; calmed, but in a cold and calculating way. 

_Now we understand. All becomes clear, in time. How very interesting, this sudden turn of events. How might we use you now, knowing this? To be so close to this child of the light, closer than we ever could have dreamed. An advantage, to be sure. You’ve done well, Gaia._

“I didn’t do anything for _you_.” Gaia’s voice shook as she spoke. She could feel the heat of panic rising in her chest. 

_On the contrary, everything you’ve done has always been for us. You’re just too blinded by light’s fleeting brilliance to see clearly. No matter. Your purpose, your very destiny, is before you, as strongly now as it ever has been. There is no avoiding it. Time won’t wait. Not for you. Not for anyone. Not even for Ryne._

Gaia’s heart dropped at the sound of Ryne’s name on the faerie’s heartless whisper. She looked up into the mirror at her reflection. In the moonlit darkness her own reflection startled her. Her eyes were wide and her lips were trembling. She looked incredibly exhausted and on edge. She stared at herself, and in a moment the reflection moved. Her reflection’s expression changed, even though she knew she herself had not moved a muscle. The Gaia _within the mirror_ tilted her head down, and her eyes narrowed with cruel delight as her lips curved into a vicious smile. Gaia’s heart thundered in her own chest as her reflection lifted a hand, as if to reach for her, and this time, when the faerie’s voice whispered, her reflection’s lips moved as if speaking the words.

_It is through acceptance alone that one may find solace in one’s own fate._

Those familiar words may once have held Gaia’s attention and enthralled her into fearful submission. Now, because of Ryne, Gaia saw them for what they were; what they had always been. Manipulative lies meant to control her. The thought of Ryne came back, and this time she felt that the thought was finally her own, and a voice that didn’t belong to the faerie asked her what she was doing _here_ , when Ryne was waiting for her _out there_.

Suddenly, Gaia forced herself up from the vanity, raising one shaking arm as she closed her hand into a tight fist, and then with all her power she sent her fist flying forward, striking into the heart of the mirror. It shattered, and the reflection split into a thousand ruined shards, and in the moment before all went to black Gaia heard the sound of a sudden faltering gasp.

Then, there was nothing but that familiar, empty void. She had been there once before. This time, alone in the silence and darkness, Gaia’s heart held fear no longer, for she was certain that Ryne would find her there, just as she had done before.


	13. Faith

Gaia’s sleep was not a dreamless one, and though most of her wanderings were lost to memory, there was a single vision that again surfaced and stood out from all the rest. 

Gaia was standing with Ryne on Norvrandt’s revitalized hills, with the long grass at their feet blowing lazily in the breeze. The sky was the purest blue, and in the back of her mind Gaia realized that Eden was nowhere to be seen on that restored landscape.

It felt like her and Ryne were truly _together_ , bonded in a way that didn’t match up to their current relationship’s depth, and the feeling of that alone was enough to fill Gaia’s heart with warmth and hope and yearning. Gaia reached out for Ryne’s hand, and just as their fingers touched, the dream faded and Gaia’s consciousness phased back into the real.

Gaia opened her eyes slowly. The light coming in from the nearby window was almost too much for her to bear, and she had to squint so that she might see her surroundings more clearly.

She was laying in an unfamiliar bed in what looked like a room in the Pendants, but it wasn’t their usual one. This room was somehow both more expansive and cozier-seeming at the same time. She looked around. The familiar sight of stacks of books, old, burned-out candles, alchemy supplies, various linens hung on a rack to dry, and a number of other oddities made this room seem less like a room and more like a home.

As she acclimated to the brightness of what she supposed was mid-morning light, her curiosity gave way to concern, and all at once the memory of the faerie’s visit came sluicing into her psyche like ice water. 

“Ryne…?”

She called out, and heard movement in the rooms beyond her view. Gaia tried to push herself up and immediately sucked in a sharp, faltering breath as pain shot up from her hand, and as she lifted it she realized that it had been bandaged. She saw the dark, rusty crimson of dried blood seeping through the bandage’s edges, and her panic began at once to spiral out of control.

“Ah, thou hast awoken.”

Urianger appeared from beyond the outer rooms, dressed simply in his usual flowing black robes, cut at the shoulders so that his elegant, muscular arms were bare. He had a small mortar and pestle in his hands and had been mixing with it, but had gone to set it down after seeing the panic rising on Gaia’s face. 

“Gaia!” 

Ryne’s familiar voice was a salve to Gaia’s fractured thoughts, and as she appeared in the doorway Gaia immediately felt reassured. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Gaia murmured scratchily.

“ _You’re_ glad _she’s_ okay?” Thancred’s deep voice came from behind Ryne as he, too, stepped into the doorway.

Ryne was already hurrying over to her, and before Gaia had a chance to comment on Thancred’s sarcastic-seeming remark, Ryne had very nearly jumped on the bed with her as she strove to wrap her arms around her.

She was smiling, but Gaia could see the start of tears in her eyes, and the sight of that made Gaia’s heart drop into her stomach. 

“Thou hath confirmed _Ryne’s_ health, but doth thee not wonder after thine own self, and how thou came to thy present state?” 

Gaia squinted slightly as she tried to parse Urianger’s eloquent, poetically gifted voice into words that she could follow.

“Well, I can take a guess at what happened...” Gaia murmured, looking away with painful, guilty apprehension as the thought of what must have happened overtook her. How it must have seemed, from Ryne’s point of view, to be awoken by the shattering sound of glass, and then to see that Gaia had been the one to have caused it. And then, apparently, to be unable to awaken her.

“How long have I been out?” She asked suddenly. 

“Thou slept throughout the night’s remainder, though we did make an attempt to wake thee outright.”

“...I really messed up this time, didn’t I?” Gaia nearly whispered, more to herself than anything as she thought of Ryne trying to wake her, and then having to run for help. Piecing it all together was all so exhausting. 

She was suddenly aware that all three of them were waiting for her to continue. Thancred leaned against the door frame, broad arms crossed before his chest. Urianger sat at a small stool at the foot of the bed, hands relaxed and folded in his lap. And Ryne stood right next to her, looking down at her, and she noticed that Ryne’s eyes again darted to Gaia’s bandaged hand, and her lips parted as if she were about to speak.

“The faerie spoke to me, last night,” Gaia said quietly, forcing her gaze away from the three of them and out the window. She could just barely see the top of Lakeland’s lavender trees, blowing in the breeze.

There was another blanket of silence that fell upon the group. Even Ryne seemed to be standing still.

“Of what didst the faerie speak?” Urianger’s voice was gently insistent.

Gaia hesitated as the memories and the sound of the whispered words flooded through her. Even though the night before seemed like it had taken place so long ago, she had no trouble recalling every single word. 

And yet, her retelling faltered.

“...Same as always, spouting vague nonsense about my destiny... things like that.” Gaia trailed off, holding back. The lavender treetops seemed to nearly sparkle in the sun. It was far too bright, but Gaia forced herself to look all the same.

“Nothing more?” Urianger’s words held themselves within the air. Gaia could feel all three of them waiting for her to continue, knowing just as well as she did that there was more to the tale. Gaia struggled for the right words.

“Gaia…”

Ryne’s voice brought Gaia’s gaze back to her, and looking up, she saw that Ryne was not angry or afraid as she had thought she might be. Her expression was one of… understanding. A determined, knowing look that immediately put Gaia at ease. Ryne knew what this felt like, and she wasn’t going to tell Gaia that everything had gone wrong, or even that everything was going to be okay. She would only do what Gaia most needed in that moment… and listen.

“The faerie knows that I… care for Ryne,” Gaia said at last, quite simply, though the weight of the words felt heavy and solid and inescapable on her chest, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Ryne make a small movement and then her hand was on Gaia’s own, uninjured one.

“Doth thou suspect the faerie seeketh to use thee, to get to Ryne, and ultimately, to Eden?”

“That’s how it seemed, but I don’t know… it all happened so fast.” Gaia squeezed Ryne’s hand and looked down at their two hands intertwined.

There was a pause, and this time, Thancred spoke.

“And the mirror?”

Gaia looked back to him. She must have looked incredibly tired, but she set her gaze on him with a quiet determination.

“That… that wasn’t the faerie. _I_ did that, in self defense. The faerie reached out for me, and I...”

“I see.” Urianger cut in when Gaia’s words trailed off, and to Gaia’s surprise, his smile deepened.

“We hath asked much of Gaia, so soon after waking. We must needs allow her ample time to rest, and as her strength returns so too will our discourse.”

Thancred nodded once and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I suppose now is as good a time as any to get those books you wanted. I’ll bring back something to eat, too.”

He paused in the doorway and looked back. “Glad you’re alright, Gaia.”

Urianger turned his head, and a small smile formed upon his lips as he nodded in Thancred’s direction, and after Thancred had left the room he came closer to Gaia’s bed. He motioned down towards Gaia’s bandaged hand. His voice seemed lighter and more forthcoming now.

“A full recovery is more than likely, and there will be no permanent scarring.”

“I suppose I have you to thank for that?”

“Thou should thankest Ryne most of all, for her swift and clever restorative skills in the immediate. I merely mixed the salve and provided thine bandages and sleeping arrangements.”

“Well, I’ll thank the both of you, then.”

“I wish I could have done more…” Ryne’s voice shook, and again she squeezed Gaia’s good hand.

“Having you here is enough,” Gaia said quietly, albeit with some fatigue. She realized all at once how tired she was, and she could feel sleep creeping up on her as her eyes fell closed.

“Come,” she vaguely heard Urianger’s hushed voice, and felt Ryne’s hand draw away from her hesitantly, “Let her sleep.”

* * *

Gaia wasn’t sure how long she slept, but she could still feel the light coming in from the window, pressing up against the darkness of her eyelids, and so assumed and hoped she had only been out a few hours and not entire days. 

She kept her eyes closed as her sleepiness faded away, and heard the sound of clinking glass, and then of gently rustled parchment, next there was the folding of fabrics, and then something heavy being placed on a hollow, wooden surface, then, the sound of a book’s pages being flipped through. It was all somehow very relaxing.

She opened her eyes slowly, and saw Urianger sitting beside her bed. He had a book in his hands and was paging through it idly. When he noticed she was looking at him he lifted his gaze and smiled.

“Feeling well-rested?”

“Yes, actually,” Gaia said slowly, and then she lifted her injured hand and tried to flex her fingers. She winced against the pain.

“That will take yet more time to improve. Giveth me thy hand, that I may redress the coverings.”

At first, as Urianger began to unwrap the bandage, Gaia thought she might close her eyes, but she couldn’t help but wonder at the state of her wound, and so she watched in silence as the covering came off. Her knuckles were bruised, and there were places where the glass had cut her, but all in all, it hadn’t been as bad as she was expecting. She supposed Ryne had seen to that.

“Where’s Ryne?”

“She sleepeth in the study, now that she hath ascertained your well-being.”

“She hasn't slept at all since last night…?” Gaia said in awe, again feeling that pang of guilt at the trouble she had caused her, and everyone.

“Would thee, in her place?”

“Good point,” Gaia said quietly, falling again into silence as she watched Urianger work. He was very careful not to move her hand too much, and again she felt relaxed.

“I’m sorry,” She spoke again after a while, and the sudden sound of her voice had nearly surprised her, “...for all of this. I’m.. I’m really living up to my title, aren’t I?”

“The Oracle of Darkness,” Urianger said the words, each one of them falling off his tongue in an almost mocking solemnity. “I regret having given thee such a title.”

“Really?”

“Thou hath proved to be much and more than Ryne’s foil. Wouldst thou not agree? In the same way that I am much more than a flourish to Thancred’s bravado.”

“I…” Gaia tilted her head, trying to understand the meaning behind his words. She felt that there was a subtlety to them, lying just beneath the surface, but she couldn’t grasp it outright.

“But it is I who should be the one to apologize. To thee. To Ryne. Even and especially to Minfilia. Guilt hangs a heavy mantle on the shoulders of mine own conscience.” Urianger dropped his eyes down to Gaia’s hand, and Gaia could see a vast, muted sadness within the silver of them.

“Well, I forgive you.” Gaia shrugged as best she could without moving her hand too much, again not entirely following the meaning of Urianger’s words, but moved by the _feeling_ of them. “If I’ve learned anything from all of this, it’s that we can’t keep looking back or we’re never going to move forward.”

“Indeed,” Urianger smiled after a moment, “And we would help to see you and Ryne do the same.” Urianger had finished re-bandaging Gaia’s hand, and now he set it down gently on the bed.

“Will you... tell Ryne that everything’s okay, then?” Gaia’s voice nearly shook as she asked the question.

“Those words are not mine to tell, and the both of us know that Ryne seeketh such assurances from thine own tongue foremost.”

“I know. I’m just… I don’t know if I really _am_ okay,” Gaia continued painfully, looking down at her newly bandaged hand as she spoke, “The faerie came back. All this time, and it’s just back in an instant. I thought I was past that. I thought… I thought I was better than this.”

“Thou shattered thine own fate’s mirror, and now countless shards reflect the possibilities laid out before thee. There is yet hope, Gaia. Have faith.”

Gaia looked back out the window as Urianger’s words echoed in her mind, and again she recalled Ryne’s journal, and could almost see the script there, written in Ryne’s delicate hand.

_Urianger had told me to have faith. Have faith, and all will be well. He was right. They all were. The choice, my destiny, has always been my own._

And again, those words rang true, and Gaia knew what she had to do.


	14. Antiphon - Part 1

“Show some patience, Ryne. We haven’t even gone through the books yet. There’s bound to be _something_.”

“Since when are books _your_ way to resolve a conflict?”

Gaia woke to the faint, hushed voices of Thancred and Ryne in the room beside her own room. Even with the door closed, she could hear them quite clearly. They weren’t exactly whispering, and as their voices rose Gaia realized she had caught them in the middle of a heated conversation. 

“Well, it’s not like we can _see_ the faerie. If I could see it, I could shoot it.”

“That’s exactly my point!” Ryne’s voice rose, sounding exasperated. 

Thancred’s reprimand was quick and harsh. “You’re moving too fast again, Ryne. This isn’t something you can force your way through, like you did with Eden.”

“ _Persistence is key_. You’re the one who told me that.” Ryne’s voice grew more passionate and almost pleading.

“I gave you that advice so you could work up the courage to ask Gaia to have _coffee biscuits_ with you. This situation is a little different, don’t you think?” Thancred replied, sounding almost exasperated.

There was a pause. Gaia opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. She had always had an idea of how nervous Ryne had been around her when they had first met, but she hadn’t realized that Ryne had asked for Thancred’s help to _talk_ to her. And yet, remembering how outwardly cold and uncaring she had tried to seem, she could certainly see why Ryne had asked for assistance. 

“All I’m saying is that actions speak louder than words. Don’t you remember telling me that a few days ago?” Ryne asked plaintively. 

“Of _course_ I do, but in _this_ situation we need to use restraint until we know the full picture. Hells, this is starting to feel like Shiva all over again.”

Gaia felt uncomfortably deceptive, without meaning to be, by listening in on what was obviously a private conversation. She told herself she should really make some sort of noise that would be loud enough for them to hear, so that she wasn’t involuntarily listening in on a conversation that seemed to be entirely about her.

“That was _different_. I’m not being reckless here, I’m being… proactive.” Ryne’s voice was strong and sure as she chose her words carefully, and even Gaia felt the certainty of them. "I just... I don't want to have any regrets."

Thancred made a gruff _hmm_ sound. “I can understand that, but none of this matters until Gaia wakes up. It’s all up to her, at this point. So let’s save the rest of this conversation for later.”

“Fine, but,” and here Ryne paused, and her hushed voice became less insistent and more introspectively shy, and low enough that Gaia had to strain to hear her.

“I do want you to know that all your advice has really helped me so far, and I appreciate it.”

“So this old man hasn’t lost his touch?” Thancred’s voice softened, “I can see how close you two have become, and I’m proud of you. Keep it up.”

Gaia’s heart shot up into her throat. Was it possible? Had she heard them correctly? 

Ryne had continued to ask Thancred for advice… on how to get closer to her?

It painted an entirely different picture of Ryne’s frequent meetings with Thancred the past few days, and even before that, when Ryne would go for long walks with him while Gaia sat alone in Mord Souq, wondering what sorts of adventures they might be off having, without her.

Gaia could feel the heat rising into her chest as her cheeks took on a tinge of redness, and of course it would be now, at the worst possible moment, that she heard approaching footsteps, and the handle of the door turning. She closed her eyes quickly and lay very still. 

“She’s still asleep,” Ryne whispered, and then, “I’m going to grab a few things from our room while we wait. I think she might appreciate having her makeup nearby.”

Gaia heard footsteps. Ryne’s lighter ones, heading away, and Thancred’s slower, louder ones, approaching. She heard the sound of the stool as he pulled it quietly towards her bed, and then sat upon it. After a few minutes, she made sure to slowly open her eyes and look around, forcing a yawn that she hoped seemed legitimate. Thancred had his arms crossed over his chest, one leg crossed over the knee, and was balancing on the stool in an almost comical way. 

“Have you been sitting here this entire time?” She asked slowly, trying to sound sleepier than she really was, and despite her heart pounding in her chest.

“Not like there’s a whole lot else for me to do at the moment,” Thancred replied idly, in a voice that was both gentler and more distant than the one she had heard him using with Ryne only moments ago. 

“You really don’t need to sit here and keep an eye on me, do you?”

“Oh, but watching you sleep is one of my specialties. Don’t you remember, back in the Empty?” Thancred raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to one side, so that strands of short, white hair fell across his silver eyes.

And then she did remember. Thancred had been the one to watch over her, in that tent in the Empty, and he had been there when she had first awoken, after being beaten by the Warrior of Light. She hadn’t been very happy to see him then, but he hadn’t been too happy to be stuck with her, either. Back then, in their mutual halfhearted contempt there had been a sort of strange, silently accepted truce between them. 

“Hm,” she murmured, “So you’re a professional babysitter. Sounds exciting.”

“Hah, maybe, but I don’t get paid,” now he smiled slightly, and narrowed his eyes playfully, “And let me tell you, it’s far from exciting.”

Thancred had taken out a handful of cartridges from his jacket pocket. He was inspecting each one, and some he put back into his pocket, while others were sorted into a small brown pouch. Gaia was vaguely aware of Ryne’s ability to supercharge the bullets with her powers, though she didn’t quite understand how it all worked.

“Aren’t you going to ask me where Ryne is?” Thancred asked idly as he eyed the cartridges.

“She went to get my makeup, though I’m not exactly sure why. I have little use for it, here, and with only one good hand at my disposal.”

Thancred had stopped inspecting the cartridges and was staring at her. 

“Oh.” Gaia could immediately feel her cheeks going a bright red. She swallowed thickly and nervously looked out the window. 

“I should have known these walls would be thin,” Thancred said thoughtfully, though he sounded less angry and more amused.

“I didn’t hear much. I…”

“It doesn’t matter. You’d come to know it all the same, in due time. I guess you could say you’re _expediting_ things,” He paused, and dropped a cartridge into the pouch. “And of course now you know how lousy I am at being Ryne’s guardian.”

“I don’t think you’re lousy. She respects you, she’s just…” Gaia trailed off, it felt strange to talk about Ryne with someone who knew her just as well as she did.

“Headstrong? You know, she only started coming into her own after she met you.”

Gaia blushed brighter and found herself again at a loss for words. Thancred, thankfully, was not watching her too closely, still intent on sorting through his cartridges. The sun had just begun its descent towards the horizon. There were hours still before the sun would fully set, but Gaia was already silently uneasy about the night’s return. She hastily pushed this thought from her mind.

“I’m glad for that, though,” Thancred continued, “She needs someone who’ll be there for her. Someone who understands her.” 

Gaia listened to his voice, attaching her entire focus on him so as not to be drawn into her own worried thoughts. 

Thancred seemed to be caught in his own thoughts, however, and his voice began to waver. “You’re doing it even better than I could, and that’s a relief. I didn’t want her to be left alone when, when I… well, I’m sure Ryne told you all about that.”

“She did.”

Now it was Thancred’s turn to pause. He seemed unwilling to ask the question that Gaia could feel on his tongue, so she went ahead with the answer.

“She’s taking it as badly as you might expect, but no worse than that. She understands, and she has no regrets. She’ll pull through.”

Thancred nodded. “And now she has you.”

Gaia said nothing. She was still looking out the window. Birds flew overhead, in small, uneven formations. One or two strayed, alone from the rest.

“Does she, though?” Gaia asked simply, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Thancred’s hand pause, midway into his pocket, but he relaxed when she continued. “I want to be there for her, but how can I be, with… all of this?” 

She vaguely motioned with her good hand to her bandaged one, and more broadly to herself, and the bed, and the room and, well… everything.

“You’ll find a way.” 

Thancred’s words were so painfully simple and powerfully striking all at once, with enough meaning behind them to feel like they must have come from experience. It was then that Gaia wondered, probably for the first time, who Thancred had found _his_ way for; who _he_ had loved. She felt a guilty kind of regret as she realized that she knew very little about this person, who was such an important presence in Ryne’s life. 

Then, Thancred, too, seemed at a loss for words, and for a moment his eyes widened as if he had only then realized how deep the conversation had gone. Then, he closed his eyes and smiled, and when he reopened them his expression was as normal as it had always been.

After that, the conversation became more mundane, and eventually Ryne and Urianger, who met each other out in the Exedra, returned with more books, and food, and supplies. 

Much to Ryne’s apparent distaste, Thancred and Urianger had convinced them that the most responsible first course of action was to first scour all the books, tomes, tablets and scrolls they had brought back from the Cabinet of Curiosity that might lead them to a clue on what to do next. The small group settled in, pulling in a couple writing tables and chairs from the outer rooms, and books and plates of food.

“Looks like it’s another academic all nighter. Do you remember pulling some of those in Matoya’s cave?” 

“I remember Alphinaud, being chased about by a magicked broom,” Urianger replied craftily as he turned a page in the thick tome he had in his hands. His comment elicited a boisterous guffaw from Thancred.

Gaia was glad for their idle chatter. It helped her to take her mind off things. She had a plate of food before her, but she hadn’t had much of an appetite. All she kept coming back to was how quickly the sun seemed to be dropping to the horizon, and how much closer, minute by painful minute, the night became. Even the wounds, which she had all but forgotten, seemed to suddenly become more obvious to her as her anxiety rose.

As time pressed on, Ryne’s energy rose as her patience diminished. She had a few books in front of her and seemed to be flipping hastily through all of them at random, occasionally pausing to sip from her teacup or take a bite of fruit.

“Nothing in these three,” Ryne said shortly and she pushed them away and stood to grab another armful of books. 

“Ryne, slow down. It’s not a race,” Thancred muttered idly.

“Talking to me will just slow both of us down,” Ryne replied promptly.

“Thy mind will most assuredly melt, at such an expedient pace.”

Ryne paused, mid-way through turning a page. “That’s a joke, right?”

Thancred shrugged as he unrolled a parchment and stared at it, then turned it to the side and raised his eyebrows. “Sounded serious to me.”

“I think I’ve heard about that. It’s a real problem in the libraries,” Gaia added, smiling for the first time in what seemed like ages. 

“Well, I know _you’re_ teasing me,” Ryne responded as the tips of her ears turned a light shade of pink.

“Maybe she is, but do you really want to risk it?” Thancred asked.

Ryne tightened her lips in frustration and shoved a stray strand of coppery hair behind her ear, but she did seem to only read through one book at a time, after that.

After a while, Gaia sighed and looked away from the window, at the three of them, who all seemed very deeply engaged in their reading. 

“I can help too, you know. It only takes one hand to turn a page.”

“You _read_?” Thancred’s teasing, incredulous voice pushed the right button, and Gaia scowled at him.

“Don’t be absurd, of course I do!”

“I can bring a book over to you. Which one would you like?” Ryne asked brightly.

“No, I’ll get it.”

Gaia stood, pushing herself up off the bed somewhat awkwardly with only one hand. She crossed the short distance between her bed and the desk that Ryne had set near her, and Ryne stopped reading to look up at her. 

“Can I have this one?” Gaia asked, and as she reached towards it, Ryne had meant to grab it for her, and then their hands touched, and Gaia felt suddenly as if she and Ryne were somehow meeting again for the first time. She could feel Urianger and Thancred’s presence behind her so strongly, and she had spent almost her entire day talking to both of them about how dearly she cared for Ryne. The thought of that suddenly made her incredibly self-conscious. 

“Oh, I’m-- sorry, here,” Ryne stumbled over her words and picked the book up, handing it to Gaia. Gaia clumsily grabbed the spine of it with her good hand. They were both blushing and looking away from each other.

“Girls.” 

Urianger’s voice caused the both of them to nearly jump, and turn their heads towards him. He was sitting on a stool by Thancred’s desk.

“Relax,” Thancred said plainly. “You won’t be much help if you can’t even string a sentence together. Don’t worry about us. _Be yourselves_.”

It seemed an easy enough request, and Gaia felt silly to have even worried at all. She looked back at Ryne, and found her smiling, and that was all she needed. 

“That goes for you two, too.” Ryne replied playfully, looking at Thancred and Urianger. Gaia tilted her head, and as she pulled a chair over to the other side of Ryne’s desk, she noticed that Thancred gave her a small wink.

After that, everyone fell into hushed, studious seriousness, with only the turning of pages to keep rhythm with time. As the daylight hours dwindled, candles were lit, and then the candles, too, began to run down and burn low as the sun dipped beneath the rim of the world and darkness crept forward and began to settle in.

Gaia had continued to page through book after book, finding nothing as each turn of the page heightened her apprehension. She could feel herself frowning, and she bit at her lip, trying to force down her concern and focus on the task at hand, but in her heart she felt that this quest for answers, like every other time she had tried before, would lead to nothing but more questions. She found herself pleading with the pages of each book, that the next one she turned would hold an answer. And she kept turning the pages with something like a petrified, muted despair.

“I’m sorry, but this isn’t working.” Ryne let the cover of a thick book in her hands close with an audible thud and pushed her chair back from the desk.

Gaia, Thancred and Urianger all looked up, the three of them equally surprised that _Ryne_ would be the one to say this, when it felt more like something that would have come from Gaia. Thancred, to that point, even turned his head to look at Gaia, raising an eyebrow in a critical way. Gaia shrugged silently back at him. 

“We’re never going to find anything in any of these books because something like this has never _happened_ before.”

Thancred frowned, but Gaia pursed her lips. 

“Ryne, we’ve been over this,” Thancred started.

“We said we’d try it. We’ve been trying it for hours. All we’ve found is stuff about Minfilia, and the past Oracles, and me. How does that help us?”

As Thancred and Ryne continued to argue, Gaia absently turned the page in her book, and there, shoved between the book’s pages as if it were waiting for her, was the pamphlet she had once read from, all those days ago, in the Cabinet of Curiosity.

_On the Nature of the Oracle of Light_

She ran her fingers over the ink of the handwritten title. She already knew the words she would find there, and could again feel the weight of them as they jumped from the page and attached themselves to her, but now instead of frightening her, the words felt empowering. After all that, she had finally, _finally_ found her answer. It had been there, right in front of her, this entire time.

“And what’s your proposal? Fight an enemy we can’t even see?”

The argument was getting heated, and Gaia could tell how passionate Ryne was getting about all of this. About _her_.

“ _Excuse_ me,” she raised her hand. Ryne and Thancred stopped and looked at her. Urianger looked up from his book. 

“This is my battle, isn’t it? Shouldn’t I be the one to decide how we go about things?”

Thancred, and even Ryne, began to open their mouths to speak, but Urianger took the initiative.

“Gaia has the right of it, in mine own opinion. She, of us all, has the most intimate knowledge regarding our shared foe. We must needs listen to her words, whilst keeping our own minds open and, more notably, mouths shut.”

Thancred and Ryne both seemed to wilt and deflate at Urianger's deliberate reprimand, but they both nodded, and now, with everyone patiently waiting, Gaia could feel her mouth going dry with nerves. Still, she pressed on.

"For a very long time, the faerie only ever whispered. It whispered so much that I grew used to the words, and as hard as it is to say, I started listening to them as if they were my own thoughts. But that’s all. It only ever whispered. It never… reached out,” she frowned and looked out the window at a sky that had gone black with night. The darkness at the window made her reflection all the more visible, and as she stared at it memories of the night before flashed into her mind.

“More recently, there have been times that I’ve felt the faerie’s presence as _more_ than just a whisper. Reaching, pulling… trying to get a hold of me. And it seems to be getting stronger, and I think I finally know _why_.”

Gaia raised the pamphlet up so she could read from it, as if reading a poem in a classroom.

_“Like a moth to a flame, light is drawn to darkness._   
_And so too, does the flame of darkness find itself drawn to quenching light.”_

Thancred tilted his head, and even Urianger said nothing as he raised one hand to his chin.

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Ryne’s voice shattered the silence.

Gaia said nothing, but nodded slightly in acquiescence. It was hard to look at Ryne, who looked suddenly so forlorn. 

Ryne looked down, and her lips trembled. “I thought it might be. All this time, and I’m the one-” She stopped herself, and now she looked conflicted and desperate as she raised her eyes to Gaia’s own. “I should go, shouldn’t I? I mean, we can't-”

“No. That’s not at all what I’m saying. Don’t you see? This is how we’re going to _fight_ it. Together.” Gaia finally laid out her desire, and just like that, everything changed. Ryne’s eyes widened, but only for a moment, and then she understood, and with sudden emotion she reached out and took Gaia’s hand within her own.

“What...?" Thancred interrupted, sounding nearly bewildered. _"That’s_ your conclusion? You can’t possibly believe that you can fight this thing like _that_.”

“And yet, she already has,” Urianger replied proudly. “The shattered mirror, struck in self-defense, has substantiated Gaia’s ability and resolve.”

Thancred stared at him.

“All we need now,” Gaia murmured as she squeezed Ryne’s hand, “is a plan.”


	15. Antiphon - Part 2

“You can’t be seriously considering this.”

Thancred’s voice carried powerfully across the room as he stood. His arms unfolded from his chest and he gripped the table with his gloved hands, staring at Ryne and Gaia with something like wounded indignation. 

Gaia frowned slightly, and spoke slowly so she could carefully choose her words. “I’m aware of the danger, but it feels _more_ dangerous to just sit here and wait for the next bad thing to happen. Fighting the faerie head on feels like the most direct way towards a resolution, and like Urianger said, it’s something I already know I can do.”

“Yeah, last time ended well, didn’t it? You nearly broke your hand and then you fainted. Sounds like a battle won, to me.”

Gaia twitched, and again she was reminded of the numb ache of the bruise at her knuckles. She faltered and looked away.

Ryne almost smiled apologetically, but something in the seriousness of Thancred’s voice stopped her, and when she spoke her voice was deliberately genuine. “I know it seems brash, but I really think Gaia has thought this through. And we _did_ find a clue, in one of the books.”

“All the clue told us was that you’re going to be used as bait, Ryne. Hells, this really is just like Shiva all over again.” Thancred raised a hand to massage his temple with his fingers, closing his eyes in a troubled sort of way.

Ryne hesitated, and glanced in Urianger’s direction. His eyes were downcast, pensive, and he was sitting very still. When he noticed that she was looking at him for a response, he spoke.

“While thy decision seemeth ripe with haste, it is _thy_ decision after all, and our wills shall be unable to override thine own, however unyielding or pliable each may in truth be.”

Gaia frowned. “What…?”

“He’s saying that we’re at an impasse, but in the end that it’s our decision,” Ryne replied in a measured way, looking at Thancred while she spoke.

Thancred bristled and stood up to his full height. “ _He_ may be saying that, but I’m not. Last time, with Shiva, no one listened to me, and it was luck alone that you weren’t lost to us. How could I let you go through with something like that all over again?” His voice rose, but everything he said was tinged with pain, so that instead of him yelling at them, it seemed more like he was angry with himself. 

Thancred walked purposefully towards the door. 

“You’re _leaving_?” Ryne’s voice, high with surprise, followed him.

“I won’t just sit here while you plan your deaths. Come get me when you’ve come to your senses.”

And before anyone could say another word, he left the room, with the door slamming shut behind him.

Gaia and Ryne looked at each other, and then both of them stared at Urianger, who looked at the door with a frown.

“It seemeth that wills art duly strong on both sides, and mine own lay in the middle,” he spoke gently, and Gaia realized suddenly how tired he looked.

“What should we do?” Ryne asked hesitantly. Gaia glanced at her, and saw how worried she looked.

“Let me talk to him,” Gaia said at once, surprised by her own abrupt willingness to attempt to reconcile the situation, given how contentious Thancred had demonstrated himself to be.

Ryne stared at her, and then she took Gaia’s hand. 

“Maybe we both should go.”

“Alas,” Urianger drawled, “it doth seem to me that at Thancred’s core there is a deep, tangled thread of regret, and that running in circles with those who he worries most for may lead only to further profundication. He must needs hear the voice of, and take no offense, a like-minded adult, who can first agree with and understand him, and bring him round thereafter.”

Gaia tilted her head, but Ryne nodded at once.

“Thank you, Urianger!”

Urianger smiled. “‘Tis late, and Gaia’s wound still requireth treatment on the morrow. You may rest here tonight, and tomorrow we will speak in further detail.”

Urianger gathered his things and exited the apartment, leaving Ryne and Gaia alone. For a moment they sat in silence, stunned with the shock from all that had come out in the past hour.

“So we’re really going to do this…” Gaia murmured, not even really knowing yet what it was they would be doing _exactly_ , but still feeling equal parts excited and relieved all the same. She realized Ryne was still holding her hand. Ryne’s fingers were so delicate and cool against the warmth of her palm. She felt a shock of pleasure jolt from her stomach to her throat as Ryne’s fingers caressed her own.

“Are you worried?” Ryne asked gently.

“I’m not sure,” Gaia replied honestly, “It feels good to know what needs to be done. And every time something that I had kept bottled up inside of me gets laid out on the table, I feel better. But…” she paused, and Ryne squeezed her hand for encouragement.

“But, the faerie is _here_ ,” and now Gaia reached her wounded hand gingerly up to her chest, unwilling to let go of Ryne’s hand with her other one. Ryne looked concerned, but she didn’t interrupt her. 

Gaia continued, pressing her fingers over her heart. “Here, in a way that I’m not used to. Closer than ever before. And while that means we can fight it, it also means that I’m not sure what’s going to happen next… with me.”

Gaia slowly let her wounded hand fall from her chest, back to the table, and as soon as she did so Ryne’s own hand came to rest there, at the middle of Gaia’s chest, on the frilly fabric of her dress. Gaia’s heart jumped into her throat even as she forced herself to sit very still. Ryne had moved closer, and now she spoke softly.

“There’s isn’t enough room there,” Ryne whispered playfully, “For both the faerie and I. We’ll have to change that.”

It was such a subtly direct statement that Gaia barely knew how to respond. Her lips parted, as if to speak, but she had no idea what to say. She nodded once, and suddenly became very aware of her breathing, as the rise and fall of her chest made Ryne’s hand press against her with the smallest amount of increased pressure.

“You always know the right thing to say,” Gaia murmured with amazement.

Ryne’s eyes narrowed with delight as she smiled. “Only with you, though.”

They separated, and moved around the room to snack on a few of the left-over baked goods and candies, and then got ready for bed. There wasn’t even a question of them _not_ sharing the bed, after it had become so routine to them at Ryne’s apartment. They even got into their usual spots, with Gaia on the side closest to the wall, and Ryne beside her.

Gaia had thought that perhaps Ryne would fall fast asleep rather quickly. She herself should have, after the day she’d had, but she couldn’t find weariness in the tangle of her own thoughts. She couldn’t stop thinking about the future, wondering if finally, _finally_ things would change, and that _she_ would be the one who would see it through, with Ryne at her side, just like she had been dreaming all those times before.

“Are you asleep?” Ryne’s whisper pulled Gaia from her thoughts.

“Saying that to a sleeping person is bound to wake them, you know.”

“I know... it’s just,” Ryne paused. Gaia could tell from her voice that she was facing away from her, but now Ryne turned gently towards her, “I can’t sleep.”

“So we’re in the same boat, then” Gaia said idly, despite having hoped Ryne would want to talk.

“Should I let you sleep?”

“Honestly, talking like this will probably help me to fall asleep. You _can_ be quite exhausting.”

Ryne laughed lightly. “I missed your teasing,” she said as she cuddled closer, “I mean, I know it was only less than a day, but it felt a lot longer.”

“You do realize that it’s mostly _you_ teasing _me_ , these days,” Gaia quipped comfortably.

“That can’t be true,” Ryne replied with prompt geniality. “I’m the nice one.”

“Tell that to the waiter at the Second Serving when he got our order wrong.”

“Ugh, I didn’t mean to go off on him, I just wanted you to get what you asked for-” Ryne paused, “See! You _are_ teasing me.”

“Looks like I missed it, too,” Gaia murmured, “But must you make it so very easy?”

Ryne made an exasperated sound. “If I weren’t so comfortable I’d hit you with this pillow.” And as she said it, she cuddled closer and Gaia could feel the warmth of her body against her back. 

Silence lazily fell upon them, slow and light as silk. 

Gaia’s mind felt at ease, and she let her thoughts drift in a meandering path towards sleep, until suddenly she wondered if there was a mirror in the room, and silently berated herself for not thinking to look sooner, until those thoughts gave way to a frustration that she felt the need to check at all.

She must have tensed her body, because soon after that she felt Ryne move and bring a hand up to rest on her back. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just my thoughts playing tricks on me. I’m fine.”

Ryne lifted her palm, so that it was just her fingertips on Gaia’s back, pressing gently with her short-trimmed nails, Ryne began to run her fingers across Gaia’s shoulders, and then slowly down her spine, to the small of her back. Gaia nearly shivered from the feeling of it.

“Do you like this?” Ryne whispered curiously.

“Yes,” Gaia replied unevenly, her breath catching in her throat for a moment as she felt Ryne’s nails lightly graze at the bare skin of her shoulder. 

After a few minutes, Gaia felt more relaxed. Ryne’s touch seemed to draw her out of hiding her own thoughts and feelings, each slow circle or light, downward drag of her nails making her feel all the more willing to share her most intimate thoughts, until eventually, she could hold them in no longer.

“I’m sorry if I worried you, last night.” Gaia murmured ruefully. 

Ryne’s hand very nearly hesitated, but she continued and her fingers grazed Gaia’s neck where her hair had been pushed aside.

“I was only worried because I didn’t know what was happening, but I knew deep down that you’d be okay, and I could still feel you,” Ryne replied gently.

“Feel... me?” Gaia asked distractedly.

Ryne continued. “When we first met, well, when I first saw you, it was when you were possessed and attacking with the voidsent. Once I took a good look, I saw that you had no light within you. None at all. That’s your aetheric signature, and I.. well, I see that as clearly as one might see the color of someone’s eyes or hair.”

Ryne paused. She had been focused on speaking so steadily that her hand had stopped moving along Gaia’s back. Now she continued, choosing instead to run her fingers through Gaia’s lustrous, dark hair.

“Aether with a complete absence of light is extremely rare, in Norvrandt. We were drowning in the light for so long. To see someone _without_ it. To see only darkness. It was like a miracle… and so beautiful.”

Gaia held her breath, as if speaking, or even breathing, would ruin the moment. Ryne continued.

“So I’m always seeing that part of you. The only time I _didn’t_ see it was after the Idol of Darkness attacked us, and you... fell asleep. But you weren’t just sleeping. I mean, you were breathing, but your aether felt _distant_ , like it had gone somewhere else. That’s when I got scared. But then you came back.”

Gaia made a mumbling _hmm_ sound. She was overwhelmed by all the emotions within her, combined with Ryne’s gentle touch.

“But I feel like I should be the one to apologize,” Ryne said then, quietly, in a more subdued way.

“What? Why?” Gaia asked suddenly, voice rising slightly. “Everything that has happened is because of me.”

“That’s not true, though,” Ryne continued steadily, “You proved that tonight, with the phrase from that book. Light is drawn to darkness, and darkness to light. Just by being around me…I-”

“I don’t care what the book says,” Gaia interrupted her, and then paused to compose herself before continuing. “Darkness, Light, Astral... whatever. It doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that we’re together.”

There was a silence, and then she felt Ryne nod behind her as she cuddled ever closer and wrapped her arm around Gaia’s middle, resting it there comfortably.

“Well, we’re definitely together, aren’t we?” Ryne whispered, and then was silent.

“Yes, of course,” Gaia answered with slight confusion as she suddenly realized she wasn’t exactly sure what Ryne had meant. 

“Okay,” Ryne replied, sounding relaxed. “I just wanted to make sure.”

After a while, Ryne wished Gaia her usual goodnight. Gaia lay sleepless, with Ryne’s arm around her, and listened as Ryne’s breathing slowed and she drifted off to a deep sleep. All Gaia could think about was the small exchange they’d just had. She replayed it, over and over again in her mind; the word _Together_ vibrating and echoing off the umbral darkness within her as the stars and the full moon made a slow and solemn procession across the night’s sky.


	16. Genesis

“One week's worth of rations and supplies. Two flight-equipped Amaro, one way,” Lyna, Captain of the Crystarium’s Guard, raised an eyebrow. She glanced at Gaia, who was standing before her desk. Gaia pursed her lips and began to doubt her eagerness to be the one to submit this request _._ Of course, she hadn’t expected that it would be the Guard Captain overseeing this seemingly menial duty.

“ _One way_?” Lyna commanded an answer in her clear, powerful voice.

“We walked here, from Nabaath Arang in the south. We left our vehicle back there. So we just need to go back to get it.”

“We?”

“The Oracle of Light and I,” Gaia responded steadily, using Ryne’s full title with reverent pride.

Lyna’s expression changed, and a small smile painted itself upon her lips. 

“Ryne could have come to ask me herself, and skipped an official review,” Lyna said, sounding amused as she sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. Then, she eyed Gaia appraisingly and her smile deepened.

“It’s getting stuffy in here. Won’t you join me for tea? We can finish this there,” Lyna said as she stood and gathered her papers together.

Gaia thought of Ryne, who was still with Urianger and Thancred. She had wanted Ryne to spend as much time with them as possible, and had offered to go here in her stead. _For Ryne, then_ , she told herself as she nodded and followed Lyna out.

Lyna took them across the Crystarium’s courtyard, bright with morning light. Her heavy boots upon the stone, and the sound of her chain-mail uniform sliding across her tall, powerful frame made her out to be quite the imposing figure. Gaia followed behind, and thought it would be nice, someday, to try on a suit of armor again. Ryne had liked to see her in armor, hadn’t she? Then, she wondered what Ryne would look like, in armor of her own, and bit down on her bottom lip as she pictured it.

“Here we are,” Lyna said, pulling Gaia abruptly out of her daydreams. Gaia looked around, and realized they had reached the Second Serving. Well, why wouldn’t they be here? Gaia must have spent half her life here, by now. And yet, already she could hear her stomach grumbling at the thought of treats.

“Do you enjoy the meals they serve here?” Lyna asked mildly, after they had been seated and their drinks had been served.

“Well, it beats Rhon Rhon’s Mushloaf, that’s for certain.” 

Lyna laughed, clear and true as a bell, “How did you like the coffee biscuits?”

Gaia stared at her, and began to frown. “They were fine,” she replied in a clipped, confused way.

Lyna raised a hand up and dipped her head, her fluffy, white-furred ears twitching minutely as she looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, my questions must seem strange. It’s just that I’ve spent a great deal of time giving Ryne advice on all the interesting places one might visit here, in the city.”

Gaia had begun to lift her tea, but now she froze. Lyna was looking at her again. 

“Ryne said she was hoping to bring a friend back here. I’m guessing that friend is you.”

The word _friend_ refracted in Gaia’s mind. It didn’t seem right to use that word. Not anymore. Especially not after the feelings she had felt last night, while Ryne whispered to her, and ran her fingers down her back. She nearly shuddered at the memory of it.

Gaia realized she was being strangely silent, and forced herself to speak. “It sounds like I should be thanking you, then.”

Lyna set her cup down and raised both hands. “No need to thank me. I’m just glad Ryne was able to bring you here.”

Lyna paused, and now her voice grew soft, she turned her head to look out the clear glass windows that served as the domed building’s walls. “There’s nothing like exploring a new city with friends, I’d imagine.”

“Actually,” Gaia started, and then she took a deep breath to build her resolve, “Ryne and I, we’re more than just... friends.”

“From how Ryne talked about you, I’d think that was pretty obvious from the start,” Lyna replied, glancing at Gaia sidelong for a moment, before taking another sip of her tea. 

Gaia stared back at her, and could feel her cheeks growing warm. Of course it would be obvious. Obvious, most likely, to everyone _except_ her, for as long as they had been travelling together. She shook her head, and smiled in a happily defeated sort of way.

Lyna smiled inwardly and continued, “Ryne is certainly someone who has a lot to give. She’s giving everything she has for her future, for this world,” she ran a tanned finger along the rim of her teacup, “It’s nice to see her allowing herself to get that kind of care in return.”

Gaia’s expression grew serious and thoughtful as she listened.

Lyna paused thoughtfully, “I thought after she found you, she might take a step back and relax. But she’s not like that, is she? I don’t think any of us are. We can’t stop fighting for this world; for each other.”

Gaia nodded. “That’s why we need the supplies, and the Amaro. There’s... something we have to do.”

“Will you be going alone? Just the two of you?”

Gaia thought back to Ryne and Thancred’s discussion earlier that morning. She remembered how Thancred had looked when they had all agreed that Ryne and Gaia would have to go alone. Thancred’s eyes were closed, and he was nodding as Ryne spoke, but his arms were crossed hard over his chest and he stood very still, almost statuesque.

“Thancred and Urianger are needed in the Crystarium, and they may be travelling soon, themselves.”

“I’ve heard,” Lyna spoke quite simply. Gaia wondered then how much she knew. She was the Guard Captain, and Ryne had mentioned that Lyna and the Exarch had a close, familial bond.

“That settles it, then,” Lyna said as she emptied her cup and set it upon the plate with a ceramic clinking sound. “I’ll escort you.”

“You mustn’t trouble yourself. Surely you have duties here,” Gaia said flatly.

“No, it’s no trouble. It’s a short flight, after all. And someone will need to fly the Amaro back. We’re in a rather short supply, so I’ll be doing myself a favor.”

Gaia frowned slightly and tried to think of what she could say to try to dissuade her, but then she wondered why she was bothering to stop her at all. Surely, having Lyna with them, even for a part of the journey, would be a benefit. 

“Besides,” Lyna smiled charmingly, “There’s not one person in the Crystarium who wouldn’t do something for Ryne. Myself included.”

Finally, Gaia smiled and nodded her head. She believed Lyna’s words. Ryne was just that charming.

“What’s your final destination, if I may inquire?”

“The Empty. Eden,” the words slid from Gaia’s tongue with a graveness she hadn’t realized she was harboring. How long had it been, since she had last seen Eden, blotting out the pure blue sky and casting enormous shadows across the slowly revitalizing hills?

“Very well,” Lyna confirmed as she stood, and her expression, which had been kind and light and caring when they had spoken of Ryne earlier, grew as hard and determined as if she were in that very moment commanding a battle.

* * *

After that, things began to move very quickly indeed. When Gaia had returned, Ryne had already packed, and with Lyna’s approval all that was left was to take the small walk through the Crystarium to the Amaro Launch. 

“Are you sure you’re going to be able to carry this on your own?” Thancred asked gruffly as he motioned to Gaia’s nearly-full suitcase that Ryne had seen to packing with all of Gaia’s things, plus all the souvenirs they had bought in the Crystarium during their stay, extra snacks, books, and probably more. “And why is it so heavy anyway. Aren’t you only gone for a week?”

“I just packed everything I could think of that we might need,” Ryne replied honestly, and then she smiled. “And, we’re stronger than we look!”

“If thy strength doth fail thee, might I suggest unpacking thy current month’s plus supply of garments, thus so ill-suited for desert travel?”

“Firstly, that designer clothing is _very_ expensive. Second, I’d rather drop the books,” Gaia responded, narrowing her eyes with delight as Urianger bristled at Gaia’s playful suggestion.

While Urianger and Gaia continued their idle bickering, Ryne moved away from them and closer to Thancred. His arms were crossed over his chest and he seemed to be taking a great deal of interest in watching the Amaro as they were prepared for flight.

“Thancred, I…” Ryne’s soft, hesitant voice carried to Gaia’s ears, and she couldn’t help but listen. 

“Ryne,” Thancred cut her off, “It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything.” He smiled, and uncrossed his arms so that he could reach down and put one gloved hand to Ryne’s shoulder. She looked up at him as he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “I’m the one who said that actions speak louder than words, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” Ryne responded, returning his smile with one of her own, “I guess you did say that.”

There was a pause, as they looked at each other, and Gaia could only wonder what the both of them saw and felt in that moment, knowing not when or if their next meeting would come to pass. 

“Take care of each other, okay?” His voice was mixed with strained concern and knowing confidence.

Ryne’s bright blue eyes glistened with the start of tears as she stepped forward and hugged Thancred tightly around the middle. He rested both of his hands on her shoulders and dipped his head as his eyes fell closed. 

“We will,” Ryne said meaningfully.

And then, the moment was gone, and they pulled away, both of them looking more determined and hopeful than ever. And when Ryne turned and saw Gaia watching at her, her smile grew ever brighter and Gaia could feel her heart burning in her chest like wildfire.

She felt a sudden rise of strength and courage, and so, after another round of heartfelt farewells, it was she who stepped forward when Lyna held out the Amaro’s reins.

“I’ll pilot it,” she said simply as she held out her good hand.

While Thancred murmured whether or not _pilot_ was the best possible choice of words, Ryne raised her eyebrows. 

“Are you sure? Have you flown before?”

“Yes, and no,” Gaia replied firmly, not taking her eyes off the Amaro as Lyna helped her onto the saddle and gave her a few pointers on how to handle the reins. 

Gaia kept still as Ryne was helped up into the saddle behind her. Ryne slid up close behind her, her inner thighs pressing warmly against Gaia’s backside. One of Ryne’s hands came round her middle, and she could feel Ryne’s breasts pressed against her back. She swallowed and gripped the reins more tightly. 

“Is it okay if I hold on like this?” Ryne asked, her voice close and maddeningly sweet in Gaia’s ears.

“Well I certainly don’t want you falling off, so... hold on as tightly as you need to,” Gaia responded, trying her best to sound as cool and collected as she hoped she looked.

“Just follow my lead,” Lyna’s confident voice helped to focus Gaia’s thoughts, “They mostly fly themselves, anyway.” 

Gaia watched as Lyna strode to her own Amaro and effortlessly jumped into the saddle. 

Ryne looked back, raising a hand to wave. Urianger waved back, and Thancred crossed his arms in a confident way, nodding back to her. 

“Here we go,” Ryne nearly whispered as she turned back to look up into the expansive, azure blue sky before them, and her grip around Gaia’s waist tightened as she leaned against her.

“Here we go,” Gaia echoed Ryne’s statement with a commanding finality as she pulled on the reins.


	17. Strength

It was strange, after all that time in the cool, breezy air of Lakeland, to be so suddenly flying through the parched, stagnant air of Amh Areng. The shock of that, and the loudness of the wind as it rushed past, was enough to keep the both of them silent throughout the flight. Seeing the desert from above was something entirely new for Gaia, and she couldn’t help but glance down at the small specs of life crawling on the surface of the world as they passed above. Through it all, Gaia’s own thoughts ran rampant.

_Is this really such a good idea? And is it actually going to work?_

_...Am I strong enough to see it through?_

Ryne shifted behind her, as if she could feel Gaia’s own fragmented thoughts, and again Gaia became acutely aware of the warmth and weight of Ryne’s hands around her waist. 

_If she’s here, I can do it. As long as Ryne’s by my side, everything is going to be okay._

The landing was rougher than expected, and it took Gaia a moment to regain her bearings after dismounting. She glanced at the Skyslipper, sitting where they had left it, and tried to cherish being on solid ground for as long as possible.

“How was it?” Lyna asked smilingly, one hand resting upon her armored hip. 

“You were right,” Gaia replied as she held out her hand to help Ryne down, “They pretty much fly themselves.”

“Really?” Ryne asked as a teasing tone rose in her voice, “But you looked so cool. Now you’re telling me you didn’t even have to do anything?”

Gaia gave Ryne a _look_ , and Lyna chuckled.

“My pride as a Guard Captain obliges me to offer to continue escorting you, though I’m assuming you’ve made up your minds to go the rest of the way in my absence.”

Ryne smiled and stepped forward, taking Lyna’s big, gloved hand in both of her own.

“Not because we don’t want you to go. It’s just... well, it’s something we have to do alone.”

“You have my faith,” Lyna smiled. “But next time you’re in the Crystarium, you owe it to me to bring me along on one of your adventures.”

“Deal!”

Then, with one final, charming smile, Lyna hopped onto one Amaro and flew off with the other in tow. The two of them watched her until she disappeared behind the clouds.

* * *

Time seemed to be moving so quickly. Too quickly. Gaia felt it like whiplash. Each time she came out of her maze of thoughts they were further along. Climbing into the Skyslipper, riding through The Empty, unpacking their luggage, and finally, there was Eden, commanding the landscape and her attention, just as it had always been. Seeing it in person, instead of in her dreams, made everything feel all the more visceral and immediate. It was only in that moment that she realized with complete surety that they were _doing this._

Ryne and Gaia stood before the green tents, still set up right where they’d left them. 

“It’s going to be hard to go back to sleeping in a tent, isn’t it?” Gaia asked idly.

“Well, I… may have stolen one of Urianger’s pillows…” Ryne offered sheepishly. 

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Gaia remarked proudly. 

They paused, and Gaia turned away from the tents and back to Eden. She crossed her arms about her, shaking hands holding onto her elbows. 

“It’s weird to be back here-” and then she stopped herself before she could say ‘without Thancred and Urianger’, for fear that it might hurt Ryne. “I mean, I knew we’d be back. Just, not this soon.”

Ryne nodded, saying nothing. Her pure, blue eyes were trained on Eden, off in the distance. 

Suddenly, Gaia felt the urge to be anywhere but outside. She clutched her elbows more tightly. “Should we take a rest, in the tent?”

“Actually, I was thinking about teleporting to the control room first. Just to make sure everything’s okay.”

Gaia could feel a tightness in her chest. She tried to keep a neutral expression and pressed her shaking hands hard into her elbows, nearly digging her nails into her own skin.

“So soon?”

“I just want to make sure my connection with Eden is still just as strong as when we left,” Ryne continued, after watching Gaia for a moment. Then, she stepped closer, and took one of Gaia’s hands within her own. “It’ll help us plan for what’s next.”

“Aren’t you worried that I’ll…” Gaia trailed off. What had she even wanted to imply?

“I’m not worried about the faerie. We’ve been in Eden’s core a handful of times and it never attacked before, like you said.”

“I know, it’s just, it feels different, now that we’re here,” Gaia felt foolish even as the words tumbled out of her.

“Like, you feel the faerie’s influence more strongly?” Ryne asked with marked concern. 

“No, nothing like that. I just…”

_I don’t want anything to happen to you. I can’t trust myself. I’m not strong enough for this._

Gaia couldn’t speak the words.

Ryne looked at Gaia with an almost apologetic concern; the affection in her eyes was unmistakable. “You can stay here if you’d like. When I get back we can talk about the plan. I won’t be long.”

“No.” Gaia replied suddenly, as she held Ryne’s hand tighter. “I’m going with you.”

Because after everything, how could now be the moment she left Ryne’s side? 

The control room at Eden’s core had remained unchanged. The intricately designed turquoise tiles at their feet made a square platform that had been raised up, so that there was space between the platform and the walls. The walls themselves glowed, flashing purple, blue and pink with all sorts of different indicators, battle grids, and status messages.

Gaia looked around and frowned slightly. For her, this was just another place that held mostly bad memories… and yet also that one very, very good one. 

She was lost then in the daydream of when Ryne had saved her, right in this very room. Ryne had held her in her arms after Gaia had awoken, all those months ago. Ryne, with tears in her eyes, smiling like an idiot and hugging her so hard she could barely breathe.

“Everything seems to be as it should be,” Ryne murmured. Gaia looked up, watching as the Oracle of Light strode to the control interface. “I can still feel her just as strongly. We’re still connected.”

Gaia heard Ryne’s words as if spoken through a blanket of silk. She tried to step closer, but found herself suddenly unable to move. She panicked, and tried to open her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. All she could do was watch Ryne with wide eyes, even as darkness clouded her vision. Ryne turned to look at her, and then everything went black.

* * *

_Let’s see how strong you really are._

Gaia’s consciousness woke within the void. The negation of all life, the absence of passive and active aether, the _silence_ was all so deeply absolute that she could feel the emptiness refracting back towards her. She struggled. If she had arms, she would have been flailing them. If she had legs, she would have been kicking them. If she had lips, she would have been calling Ryne’s name with all her might. But she had none of those things. She had only herself. 

_I’m with her right now, you know._

Gaia froze as the faerie’s voice seeped into her psyche. The blackness around her tugged and nipped at her composure. She felt the _feeling_ of when a heart pounds. 

“Get away from her, or I swear I’ll-”

_Or you’ll what? What could you possibly hope to do, now? You’ve served the purpose I gave you. Now, you’re nothing._

Nothing.

The thought of the word made the darkness tear into her. She felt nothing.

_This is all that’s left for you, Gaia. This is your destiny._

_Disappear._

Disappear.

Gaia turned in on herself. The emptiness draped itself about her like a mantle. How easy it would have been, then, to just fade away. How simple. How elegant.

She stayed still like that, for seconds, or minutes, or hours, or days. It felt like forever. It felt like an instant. A fleeting moment. An eternal memory. 

Then, she thought of Ryne. But it wasn’t just a thought. It wasn’t just a feeling. It was _real_.

_I want to see her again._

Her own voice, whispered in the darkness, was powerfully deep and desperate; a yearning powered purely by love. A prayer. A wish.

And then the void was ripped in two.


	18. Need

The light was nearly blinding. 

Gaia rose a hand to shield her eyes, and realized that she had her body back. The shattered void had taken on the qualities of time and space. The space became large, and Gaia began to fall. A scream tore itself from her throat.

Strong arms caught her and held her.

She looked up.

It was Ryne, but it also _wasn’t_ Ryne. She was taller, and stronger. Her golden hair flowed across her shoulders and down her chest. Her hood was pushed back, and her eyes, holding in them the depth of a million stars, glowed beautifully blue. It was Ryne’s primal form, from the battle with Shiva. Gaia heard the sound of heavy, powerful wings, unfurling and flapping against the air.

“Ryne?”

Ryne looked down, and smiled. The smile struck Gaia to the very core. 

“Why’re you here?” Gaia asked shakily.

“You needed me, so I came.”

Gaia looked around. Where there had been only empty darkness, all was pure and blinding light, beyond the color white, their surroundings seemed to glow with a burning brightness. Ryne held Gaia in her arms, close to her chest. It was all the warmth and comfort Gaia needed. She closed her eyes, feeling the air rush past her as Ryne flew upwards.

“Are you… really Ryne?” Gaia asked, opening her eyes to look up at her.

Gaia felt like an idiot as soon as she said it, but Ryne only smiled, radiating warmth and safety with every breath.

“Ryne’s a part of me. Just like she’s a part of you.”

Gaia stared up at her.

“Where are you taking us?”

Ryne looked up with a focused and determined narrowing of her eyes.

“Home.”

The light became again overwhelming, and Gaia let her eyes fall closed. She wasn’t sure if she drifted in and out of sleep, or how long they continued their ascent, until all at once Ryne slowed to a stop. 

“We’re here.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Gaia spoke quietly, as she felt tears welling up in her eyes without really knowing why.

“I’ll be with you,” Ryne spoke, her voice nearly a whisper now as she leaned forward to kiss Gaia on the forehead. “Always.”

* * *

Gaia opened her eyes. She was back in the control room. The flashing lights had faded, and the room was nearly dark save for dull, red-colored warning lights at the back wall. Gaia pushed herself to her feet and looked around wildly.

Her eyes found Ryne immediately, slumped against the control panel. Ryne’s eyes were closed. Gaia ran to her, and knelt before her. She pulled Ryne into her arms and could feel a knot forming in her throat.

“Ryne!” She cried out, gently shaking her as she pulled her closer. 

“Mm…” Ryne’s mumbling sound eased Gaia’s panic immediately. She hugged her closer, feeling tears in her eyes, slamming them shut so that the tears fell onto Ryne’s dress. She nuzzled her face into Ryne’s hair.

“This seems awfully familiar, doesn’t it?” Ryne struggled to say in a teasing way, and when Gaia pulled back she saw that Ryne was smiling up at her with a goofy grin. 

“Shut up,” Gaia whispered, exasperated even as she smiled in a desperately joyful sort of way. 

“Now you know how I felt,” Ryne murmured, and then she closed her eyes again.

“Are you okay?” Gaia asked, panic rising in her throat.

“I’m fine, just exhausted.” 

Gaia looked down, and in Ryne’s hand she saw that small, crystalline shard of ice that had appeared in Shiva’s domain after Ryne had been brought back from the brink. It glowed faintly, and Ryne’s grip upon it had slackened. Then, it tightened, and Ryne mumbled again. 

“Gaia, I-”

“Don’t talk now,” Gaia said gently, “You need to rest.”

With all her remaining strength, Gaia pulled Ryne up into her arms. 

Ryne opened her eyes once more, looking up at Gaia as she held her.

“This feels familiar, too,” Ryne murmured, and Gaia’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Let’s go back to the tent,” Gaia said gently, holding Ryne tighter as she strode to the teleportation crystal. “We have a lot to talk about.”

* * *

The tent wasn’t as crowded as Gaia remembered. She ducked in and set Ryne down on one of the sleeping bags, and knelt next to her, watching her with a quiet dedication as she slept. Night fell, and Gaia lit the lanterns. The fire’s light set shadows against the tent’s fabric, and painted Ryne in warm colors of copper, bronze and gold.

Gaia’s thoughts wandered.

What had happened? It certainly seemed like the faerie had taken complete control of her. Gaia had been pushed out, and left alone to be forgotten. She had almost let it happen, and then she had thought of Ryne. 

The thought of her alone had changed everything.

After what might have been minutes or hours, Ryne’s eyes fluttered open. 

“Gaia,” she said, voice cracked and dry. Gaia handed her a canteen and she sipped gingerly.

“Are you feeling better?” Gaia asked, trying not to seem as worried as she felt.

“A lot better, for sure,” Ryne replied, and then she looked at Gaia properly, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Ryne paused, and her wide eyes went lidded, and she seemed to almost smile in a bittersweet way.

“I’m sorry, about before. You… you didn’t feel right about going to the Core. I should have listened to you.”

Ryne seemed to curl up into herself, but Gaia was right there and she put her hand on Ryne’s, and the touch made Ryne stop to look up at her. 

“It’s not your fault. I can’t say I had any idea that the faerie would attack, either,” Gaia said sadly, “I just… the closer we get to the end of this, the harder every single step seems to take. I was afraid.”

Ryne pushed herself up and slid closer, nearly sitting in Gaia’s lap now, and Gaia became as acutely aware as she had ever been of Ryne’s breathing, and the movements of her chest, and the warmth of her body pressed against her own.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Ryne said simply. 

“What happened, while I was out?” Gaia hesitantly asked, not sure if she could take the knowing of it.

Ryne thought the question through.

“At first, I didn’t know what was happening. You stopped talking, but then when you looked at me, your expression had changed. Your eyes were different. And I remembered what it had felt like, when Minfilia had spoken... through me. I realized it right away. It wasn’t you anymore; it was the faerie.”

Gaia felt a pit open up into her stomach at the thought.

“The faerie wanted Eden. They tried to persuade me to transfer control," Ryne's voice slowed, and she stopped to stroke Gaia’s hair.

Gaia looked at her, waiting patiently. Whatever Ryne was telling her was something Ryne was struggling to get out, and Gaia could hear the emotion riding on her voice like the crashing of an ocean’s wave.

“I said no,” Ryne continued as her expression looked conflicted. “They threatened me with hurting you. And then I said… something that surprised me.”

Ryne stayed silent, and Gaia waited. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Gaia said quickly, worried by the expression on Ryne’s face; not wanting to break apart this moment, not wanting Ryne to have to say something that might be painful, “If you’re not ready, I mean.”

“No, I want to, it’s just…” Ryne shook her head, closed her eyes, and then opened them. They were as devoted as Gaia had ever seen them. 

“I said I’d rather destroy Eden, and let Norvrandt go back to being The Empty, if it would keep you safe. If it meant not losing you, I’d…”

Ryne’s voice trailed off, and Gaia froze.

“That’s not like you,” Gaia said with a quiet sense of wonder.

“I know, but…” and then Ryne paused again, and she took Gaia’s good hand within her own and brought it to her lips. “That’s really how I feel.”

Gaia shuddered, and held her hand very still as Ryne’s soft lips brushed against her fingers. 

“That’s how I feel, too,” Gaia’s voice flowed from her lips, as smooth and gentle as the soft wings of a bird, gliding through a sky tinged pink with the setting sun.

They both leaned in gently, at the same time, looking for the same thing. Gaia’s lips found Ryne’s, and it felt so perfectly right. Ryne’s hands traveled to Gaia’s shoulders, and she held her as Gaia brought her good hand up to cup Ryne’s cheek, sliding her fingers upwards through silken strands of coppery hair. 

Gaia breathed in deeply, pressing her forehead against Ryne’s and closing her eyes, enjoying the closeness of her, a closeness she had felt hopefully and inescapably attracted to for all these months, and finally, _finally_ , it was theirs.

Ryne’s soft, shuddering breaths tickled Gaia’s lips, and it only drove Gaia further, leaning in to kiss her more powerfully, her luscious lips finding Ryne’s. Ryne moaned into the kiss, yielding for Gaia, parting her lips just enough for Gaia’s tongue to press forward, and it felt _so_ good to want her like this, and be wanted in return.

Gaia brought her bruised, bandaged hand to Ryne’s back and trailed her nails upwards. The subtle, sudden touch of Gaia’s nails against the bare skin of her neck made Ryne gasp, breaking the kiss hastily to arch her back, so that she pressed her breasts against Gaia’s chest as her head fell back and her hair cascaded down behind her.

“You’re beautiful,” Gaia whispered, and her stomach jolted when she saw Ryne’s throat working as Ryne swallowed her compliment.

Then, quite suddenly, Ryne leaned forward, taking Gaia’s wrist in her hand and pulling her closer with surprising strength. Her lips found Gaia’s jaw, and then she kissed towards Gaia’s lips until she found them. Ryne bit gently at Gaia’s lower lip, and Gaia shuddered, feeling a peculiar warmth in her chest that she hadn’t ever quite felt before.

“You’re beautiful-er,” Ryne replied, her lips brushing against Gaia’s own as she smiled broadly, and Gaia’s heart throbbed.

“That’s…”

“...A compliment,” Ryne finished for her, still smiling as she gently pulled away so that she could look at her. Her face was flushed, and she was breathing hard, soft breaths, just like Gaia. The two of them were in exactly the same place, and they both knew it.

“Well, that felt… really good,” Gaia said stupidly, wanting to slap a palm to her face and shake her head at how silly she must sound.

Ryne laughed lightly, and even that sent Gaia’s insides twisting and her heart fluttering. 

“It did,” Ryne agreed, grinning now as Gaia pursed her lips. “Better than I ever imagined.”

“You’ve thought about this, before…?”

“Oh, like all the time,” Ryne replied as she slid her fingers delicately up Gaia’s forearm, to her shoulder.

Gaia felt overwhelmed. She could feel tears starting to form. All this time. All this inner torment. The stolen looks. The anxiety; the fear. Her own self doubt. All of it. And all this time, Ryne had wanted it just as much as she did.

“I’m such an idiot,” Gaia spoke plainly, smilingly, as tears of joy threatened to escape her deep blue eyes.

“We both are,” Ryne replied affectionately, pulling Gaia into another embrace.


	19. Oblivion

“Oh! I almost forgot.”

Ryne pushed herself up unsteadily to a crouch inside the lantern-lit tent. Gaia started to stand up to help, but stopped when Ryne only went back to kneel down before her adventurer’s pack. She reached inside, and out came a small, wooden box. She opened it with a snap, and Gaia’s eyes widened as Ryne reached into her pocket and pulled out the small, blue crystal she had been holding from before.

“So _that’s_ what it was,” Gaia murmured in awe.

“Hm?” Ryne hummed as she dropped the crystal into the box, but before she could close it Gaia had crept up beside her to look down at it. It glowed faintly in the darkness of the wooden box, small enough to be held within the palm of a hand, it looked like a crystalline icicle, each mirror-like face reflecting and refracting the warm, flickering light. 

“Oh, it’s just, I kept noticing you looking at it, but I couldn’t see what was inside,” Gaia murmured, feeling silly now for not having asked her about it sooner.

“Yeah,” Ryne said simply, “I like looking at it.”

“I still think it’d make a lovely piece of jewelry. A necklace, perhaps? Bracelets,” Gaia began to name off all the types of jewelry she could think of that might look good with a crystal setting, “Or rings.”

“One for each of us?” Ryne asked with a curious, teasing tone. The both of them blushed, and then they burst into laughter.

“I thought of jewelry, too, but I don’t think this is the type of treasure we can break apart,” Ryne spoke, voice low and almost reverent. “It means a lot to me.”

Gaia sat beside her in silence, not knowing quite what to say. They had never really talked about it; Ryne’s time as a primal, the summoning, or even really the battle itself. 

“Does it remind you of... being her?”

Ryne smiled, and her eyes fluttered closed. In her mind, and in her heart, she remembered the pain of Ysayle and the powerfully sweet embrace of Hydaelyn, contending for control within her very soul, and for a moment she was back there, feeling it all over again. Her delicate brows furrowed, and she grit her teeth. An eternal war, never ending darkness, blinding spirals of ice, pain, loss and… sacrifice. Hydaelyn’s sweet, overpowering light, flowing into her mind, offering oblivion up to her broken soul.

Ryne became suddenly aware of Gaia’s hand, stroking her back. The simplest, kindest gesture, gentle and patient, was enough to pull Ryne from her reverie.

Despite the pain of those memories, Ryne had kept the crystal. Ysayle’s wish, Shiva’s determination, and even Hydaelyn’s will were things she wanted to hold on to; feelings, condensed within crystal, to be cherished and revered.

Ryne opened her eyes, and looked to Gaia.

“Partly, yes,” Ryne replied, “But it’s more than that.”

Gaia squeezed Ryne’s hand, and she smiled, continuing.

“Do you remember back then, when you smashed the crystal? I saw you, from the inside of it. I saw you coming down with the hammer, and before the crystal shattered I could see you, looking at me. I’ll never forget it.”

Gaia swallowed hard, and a light blush colored her cheeks. She remembered it, too. The beautiful, powerful Primal Ryne, mirrored in every facet, struggling to escape the confines of Hydaelyn’s overwhelming light.

“The crystal reminds me about the good that can come, when you just keep trying,” Ryne finished, and leaned into Gaia’s neck, nuzzling her face there as Gaia brought an arm up to hold her.

“Thanks...” Gaia whispered, “for not giving up on me.”

“I’m far too stubborn for that, aren’t I?” Ryne giggled, tickling Gaia’s neck with her lips. Gaia smirked and held Ryne tighter against her. 

“That’s a quality we both seem to share.”

Ryne paused, and then she straightened up, looking into Gaia’s dark blue eyes with her bright blue ones.

“Do you... want to kiss some more?”

* * *

They woke up in each other’s arms. Ryne had woken first, and laid there, quite happily, stroking Gaia’s hair until she rose from a deep, peaceful sleep.

“Good morning,” Ryne’s voice, soft and sensual, drifted into Gaia’s ears.

“Morning,” Gaia responded hazily. She had never been a morning person, but if waking up early meant she had more time to spend with Ryne, she would do it.

But there was just one thing they had to take care of first. Just one big, horrible, whispering monster.

As they stepped outside the tent, they both looked up towards Eden, off in the distance. Gaia’s vision shot up into her mind from the depths, and saw that empty, blue sky. Ryne’s words echoed into her mind.

_I’d rather destroy Eden, and let Norvrandt go back to being The Empty, if it would keep you safe._

_If it meant not losing you, I’d…_

She froze, and her hand shot out to grip Ryne’s tightly.

“What’s wrong?” Ryne asked, looking over to her.

“Are you _sure_ about this?” It was all Gaia could say. “You’ve worked so hard. For Eden. For Norvrandt. If it means you’ll have to throw it all away...”

“I know what I want,” Ryne said simply.

“But, The Empty--”

“There’s always another way,” Ryne cut her off. “If we can’t use Eden, we’ll find a workaround. But restoring Norvrandt _without_ you… _that’s_ what’s truly empty.”

Tears threatened to spill from Ryne’s eyes as she turned away from Eden to look at her. They moved closer, wrapping their arms around each other tightly.

“We can _do_ this,” Ryne whispered, “Have faith in me. In _us_.”

_Have faith._

It was so simple, and so easy, for Gaia to believe in Ryne. She doubted she’d ever _stop_ believing in her.

Gaia nodded, swallowing hard as she geared her mind towards what had to be done. She looked back to Eden, and this time, her dark eyes and full lashes narrowed with reclaimed determination.

* * *

Eden’s Core was much as they had left it. The bright neon flashing indicators were all faded almost to nothing, and dull red warning lights flashed distantly. The large, square room was dark, so that it was almost hard to see the walls, or where the platform ended, dropping down into nothingness below.

Ryne ran to the control panel, and Gaia followed her. 

The Oracle of Light held out her hand, and began to discharge an enormous amount of light-aspected aether into Eden’s core. The panels, indicators and screens lit up brightly, and the Core looked to be functioning normally again. Gaia watched as Ryne closed her eyes with concentration, gritting her teeth as she forced Eden to submit to her will. Gaia’s heart thumped in her chest with a combination of love and anxiety.

_Back so soon?_

Gaia’s vision blacked out, but in the next instant she opened her eyes, and now she was back in front of the mirror. She was sitting at the vanity from their room in the Pendant’s, but the _room_ was gone. The vanity and bench that she sat upon were floating in darkness, and in that darkness she could just barely see her reflection, looking back at her, with narrowed eyes and a deep, dark smile.

 _The past, present and future ends here, and you along with it. You can’t fight this.  
_ _It’s your destiny._

“Is that all you’ve got? More talk about my destiny? Well, I don't care about that. I’ve already found what’s important to me,” Gaia commanded, as the faerie’s sickening whispers fell all around her, and yet didn’t _touch_ her as they once had.

Her reflection’s smirk ripped itself into a disgusted scowl. Gaia nearly flinched at seeing her own facial expressions pulled so viciously.

_Foolish. To allow a single soul so much sway over you. And to think yourself worthy of it. Do you really think you deserve her?  
Look at you. You’re nothing. _

“You don’t get to decide who or what I am anymore,” Gaia’s voice shook with surety and power.

Gaia’s reflection stood up violently, while Gaia remained seated. She tilted her head upwards as her reflection stared down at her, fists bunched up at her sides.

_Impudence! How dare you run away from this._  
_I brought you into this world. Everything you have is because of me!  
Your life. Your power. Your very name!_

_“_ You, more than anyone, should know by now that a name means nothing,” Gaia replied defiantly.

Gaia could feel the light from Ryne’s soul permeating into this dark place. She stood up suddenly, reaching out and _into the mirror_ with her damaged hand. She grabbed hold of her reflection’s wrist and _pulled_.

_No!_

The faerie’s whisper was a whisper no longer, and the sound of it echoed in Gaia’s skull as she pulled, watching with wide eyes as her reflection came through, except as each part passed through the mirror it turned to darkness. On this side of the mirror, the faerie wasn’t her reflection, it was her shadowed silhouette. 

“Do it!” Gaia yelled with all her might, as she wrestled with the faerie, holding their wrists with vice-like grips, preventing them from escaping back into the mirror.

She could feel Ryne’s light, rupturing the void once again, splitting it down the middle in a perfect, arcing slash. Light filtered in, and the faerie howled.

_How...? I control everything…!_

_Not anymore._ Gaia thought fiercely, tears forming at her eyes as the light washed over her, and the shadow split apart, shattering into dark, shrinking slivers that faded away into oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming along with me on this journey.  
> Up next, the Epilogue!


	20. Epilogue

“First of all, put the lipstick down. There’s a bunch of steps _before_ that.”

Ryne blushed and made an adorable expression that was one part embarrassment and another part mock disappointment.

“But, I wanted to get right to the fun part,” she teased.

Now it was Gaia’s turn to blush. “Well, I mean, we don’t _have_ to do it the right way. You’re the one who said you wanted me to teach you, though. I refuse to take responsibility for any bad habits.”

Ryne grinned. “Deal. I won’t hold you at all accountable,” she teased as she slid the top of the lipstick off. “Let’s just consider this the spar before the contest.”

Gaia’s brow furrowed. “You’re talking about putting on makeup like it’s a battle. That’s… pretty amazing, actually.”

“I try,” Ryne replied happily, and then she leaned closer, and now Gaia could see that her hand was shaking as she brought the tip of the lipstick to Gaia’s full, pouting lips. Ryne’s eyes were as focused and determined as if she really were deep within a battle, and Gaia couldn’t help but smirk.

“Hey! That smirk isn’t helping me, y’know,” Ryne chided playfully. 

“I can’t help it. You’re being ridiculous,” Gaia replied warmly, then she closed her eyes for a moment to regain her seriousness and pouted her lips again. Ryne licked her own lips and gulped. She was being _so_ obvious, and Gaia loved every second of it.

But when Ryne pressed the lipstick against Gaia's lips, it was Gaia’s turn to blush. It was so… intimate, in a totally different way from anything they had done before. Gaia kept her lips firmly pouted as Ryne pulled the deep red coloring across first her bottom lip, and then the top. Then, when Gaia thought Ryne might be finished, she smacked her lips together and Ryne nearly gasped.

Gaia laughed lightly. “You’re hopeless.”

“Shut up,” Ryne scratched the back of her neck with her free hand, averting her gaze as a goofy grin painted itself onto her face.

“Come here,” Gaia murmured, pulling the lipstick from Ryne’s hand so that she could pull Ryne’s arms around her. She kissed her then, and Ryne kissed back for a moment, before pulling back with mock disappointment.

“What about all my hard work?”

“I guess you’ll just have to do it again,” Gaia murmured playfully.

* * *

Ryne had chosen only to use lipstick and blush, which would have been fine on a normal day in the Crystarium, where Gaia might have spent most of her time in the library, or working at her own desk in their apartment.

Today, however, was not a normal day. In fact, there was to be a party at the Second Serving. A combination party to celebrate a newly released baked good, Thancred and Urianger’s going-away party, and, more subtly, the complete and total annihilation of the faerie.

Gaia had thought it would be a small gathering. She had been wrong, and now her absurdly managed makeup was making her feel worse than naked.

“You didn’t tell me there would be so many _people_ ,” she whispered harshly as Ryne took her arm and walked with her into the wide hall of the Second Serving’s dining hall. 

Ryne smiled and squeezed Gaia’s upper arm. “But you’re such a people person,” she teased.

In the end, Gaia didn’t mind it. Ryne was here, and this is where Ryne wanted to be, surrounded by the people she loved, and that included Gaia.

She definitely didn’t mind it when the new baked good, a coffee biscuit _sandwich cookie_ , was unveiled. It was a big hit all around, and as she sat down at the table with Ryne, she was starting to feel more comfortable.

The large round table was full of Ryne’s found family. Many of the scions had returned for the occasion, and even the Warrior of Light was said to be in attendance. 

“Here’s your _second serving_ ,” Gaia said eloquently as she set the plate of cookie sandwiches before Ryne. 

“Oh, thanks!” And then Ryne leaned over and gave her a gentle peck on the cheek. Gaia's face flushed red, and she looked up suddenly. 

Alisaie was there, giving her a thumbs up. Lyna smiled and nodded, and Urianger and Thancred, who had been in a deeper discussion, stopped to glance over at them.

“It looks like we have another reason to celebrate,” Thancred said proudly.

Ryne beamed at him.

* * *

The party continued into the evening, and after a time, Gaia felt exhausted. She managed to ease Ryne’s concerns enough for Ryne to stay longer, wanting her to spend as much time with the scions, and Thancred especially, and made her way back to their apartment alone.

Alone. 

_Really_ alone.

No sudden whispers. No blackouts. No fear.

It felt miraculous, and Gaia stood before the wide open windows of their apartment, looking up into the sky, lit by a full and enormous moon. She closed her eyes, and breathed in deeply.

After a while, the door opened. 

“It’s a nice night, isn’t it?” Ryne asked quietly as she came up behind Gaia and wrapped her arms around her from behind, delicate arms resting around her, leaning her chin against the back of Gaia's shoulder.

Gaia took another deep breath, and exhaled softly.

“It certainly is. Did you have fun at the party?”

“Yes,” Ryne murmured, but there was a sad, almost wistful quality to her voice.

Gaia turned so that she faced away from the window, and Ryne nestled her head into the crook of Gaia’s neck.

“Whatever you need, whenever you need it,” Gaia murmured, “I’m here.”

And oh, how _good_ it felt to say that and know it was true. She would never have the threat of losing herself, ever again.

Ryne nodded, and whispered a _Thanks_ into Gaia's shoulder.

They held each other there, in the moonlight, for what might have been minutes, before Ryne spoke again.

“Oh!” Thancred and Urianger gave me a new journal, check it out,” Ryne said excitedly as she pulled away and got a thick and finely decorated journal out of her pack. 

She set it on the table, and Gaia followed her over, sitting on the bench beside her.

“Let’s write the first entry,” Ryne said excitedly, shooting Gaia with a charming grin as she pulled a quill from her pack.

“Together?”

“ _Together_.”


End file.
